


Home Invasion Redux

by ladyeternal



Series: Bindings 'verse [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asian History, El wasn't around for this, Episode: s01e11 Home Invasion, I did my best to fix it, M/M, Neal Caffrey has PTSD, Peter is a walking talking trigger, Peter was a jerk in this episode, Shower Sex, The angst in this fic is brought to you by Neal's PTSD, Which probably explains a lot, imitation is the highest form of flattery, references to past non-con, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6151876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyeternal/pseuds/ladyeternal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter needs Neal to trust him with his secrets.   Neal needs Peter's respect outside the bedroom.  When a high-stakes case threatens not only their fragile trust but Neal's life, will they find common ground in time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home Invasion Redux - Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: All Season 1 episodes and the other fics in my [Bindings](http://archiveofourown.org/series/111824) ‘verse.
> 
> Warnings: Angst, drama, romance, pr0n… These are the reasons we watch this show, except for the pr0n, which I am happy to supply. :-D
> 
> Disclaimer: The series White Collar, its characters and settings are the property of their respective creators. I own little more than a tabby that gets destructive when he feels ignored, and am only playing with the White Collar world for my own amusement and the free entertainment of others.
> 
> Title card by [](http://dawnie-faith.livejournal.com/profile)[dawnie_faith](http://dawnie-faith.livejournal.com/) . Comments = Love. ♥
> 
> A note of caution: Neal had a pretty serious bout of PTSD in this episode, and I expanded upon his inner thoughts and reactions as a part of writing this. Also, Neal was ganged up on in this ep, even though Peter intervened before it could get violent; that incident is included in the fic. If you have trauma-related triggers, please take care while reading this.
> 
> Music: [Overlap – Ani DiFranco](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Gracenote:Ani_Difranco:Overlap)  
> [Dearest – Ayumi Hamasaki](http://lyrics.wikia.com/%E6%B5%9C%E5%B4%8E%E3%81%82%E3%82%86%E3%81%BF_\(Ayumi_Hamasaki\):Dearest_\(English\))  
> [Come – Namie Amuro](http://lyrics.wikia.com/%E5%AE%89%E5%AE%A4%E5%A5%88%E7%BE%8E%E6%81%B5_\(Namie_Amuro\):Come)  
> [One Safe Place – Marc Cohn](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Marc_Cohn:One_Safe_Place)  
> [My Will – Aleah](http://lyrics.wikia.com/Aleah:My_Will)

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/ladyeternal/pic/00004ab7/)

~ooooOOOoooo~

 

“You’re never getting to the office at this rate,” Neal complained, his hands entwined in Peter’s.

“Lately, I really wouldn’t count that as a bad thing.” Peter grinned at him before pinning Neal back against the wall of the shower and kissing him under the warm spray. He felt the tension melt out of Neal and released Neal’s hands, his own hands sliding down the length of that beautiful body and coming to rest with each cupping a firm globe of male backside.

Insatiable was the only word to describe Peter lately, and Neal wasn’t objecting very strenuously to that mood. Since mending the breach Peter had tried to impose between them, Peter seemed to be making up for lost opportunities morning, noon and night. Neal was sure someone was bound to notice, but he couldn’t seem to help himself, either. All Peter needed to do was touch him, and Neal was perfectly willing to be stark naked and entangled and full and warm and safe…

This moment was a perfect example. Neal had somewhere to be this morning, and Peter was due in the office. Yet somehow Peter had led Neal into the shower with nary a protest from his younger lover, and now Neal was naked and inflamed and being lifted by the gentle grip Peter had on him, braced against the shower wall, and slowly filled so deep, Peter was nearly touching his heart.

“Oh, God, yes… Peter…” Neal gasped, his legs locking around Peter’s waist and his hands tangling in Peter’s wet hair. Peter was mouthing open kisses across Neal’s collarbone, and the spattering water from the shower head felt almost cold in comparison to the heat Peter sent washing through Neal’s veins. “Peter, please…”

“Anything you want, sweetheart…” Peter gently sank his teeth into the tender flesh at base of Neal’s neck, worrying until just the tiniest welt appeared… then another… and another… Neal thrashed in his arms and Peter almost lost his footing on the slick ceramic tile, causing him to thrust even harder into Neal as his grip tightened almost hard enough to bruise.

Neal let out a choked half-gasp, half-shriek and his eyes flew open, meeting Peter’s smoldering gaze. “Do that again… oh, God…”

An almost feral grin curved those dangerously tempting lips, and Peter sank hard and fast into Neal again, almost forceful, but not quite. Those blue eyes dilated until the iris was almost invisible, and Peter braced Neal more firmly against the wall, set his footing as firmly as he could, and gave Neal exactly what he wanted. Neal could barely form words, urging Peter on with incoherent cries and clinging to Peter with all his strength, every sharp drive seeming to reach deeper than the last…

Peter’s lips found his as Neal erupted, howling Peter’s name into their melded mouths. He found his own release two strokes behind Neal, and Peter held the kiss until both men had to break for air. Neal leaned his forehead against Peter’s as Peter slowly slipped out and let Neal’s legs drop from his waist.

“As I said,” Neal tried again, his heartbeat still hammering in his ears, “you’ll never get to the office at this rate.”

Laughing unsteadily, Peter leaned in and caught Neal’s lips again. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’ve spent ten years figuring out how to make up time spent on a morning tryst, and that’s from Brooklyn. From here? I could spend the next hour buried inside you and still make it on time.”

The very idea drove the breath from Neal’s lungs as desire wrapped warm tendrils around his entire body. “Maybe on a morning when we’re both going in together, we can test that theory,” Neal promised, his voice husky with need. “But you gave me the morning off to deal with personal business, remember?”

“This is personal,” Peter objected. His warm, wet hands caressed the full length of Neal’s back, an unhurried glide from hips to shoulder blades and back again. When Neal shook his head, in spite of the wanton moan that rolled in his throat, Peter finally conceded. “All right, Neal; you win. I’ve got to go home to El tonight, though.”

“You say that like I would mind,” Neal commented solemnly as he reached for the loofah and soap with still-trembling fingers.

“Sometimes…” Peter sighed softly as Neal began working the loofah over his skin with gentle, circular strokes. “I don’t know.”

Neal remained silent as he concentrated on washing Peter from head to foot. The arrangement between them was only a few months old, even if it felt like they’d been together for years, and Neal was wary of upsetting the delicate balance that had been established. He wasn’t even sure himself if he wanted more. Wasn’t sure there was more to want. Wasn’t even sure how Peter really felt about him. There was lust in abundance. Jealousy on both of their sides, even if curiously absent from Elizabeth. Affection, definitely. But none of that was conclusive proof that Peter Burke returned Neal’s feelings for him.

Finally, as he stood and handed Peter the loofah so that Peter could wash him, Neal said, “I would never do anything to hurt Elizabeth, Peter… and I would never ask you to do something that would hurt her. I wouldn’t have you if she hadn’t said it was okay.”

Nodding silently, Peter gently scrubbed Neal down. The words were always on the edge of his tongue, fighting for voice. But Peter was resolved that even the Four Horsemen could not drag them from his lips. _I love him… as much as I love El… but if I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same, then it’s all over…_

* * *

Rockefeller Plaza was outside his radius, but Peter had arranged for him to be on monitoring status only for the morning. Neal felt a little guilty about having hedged that he had personal business to attend but talking… or rather, seducing… Peter out of pressing for details. Peter had said he didn’t want to know more than was necessary about Neal’s hunt for the amber music box. The problem was that Neal was never sure from one day to the next what Peter would consider necessary information.

It was past mid-morning before Neal spotted who he was looking for, to his great relief. Moz had sworn on his possibly-dead mother’s grave that Alex had been popping up at some point before noon every day for a week at Rockefeller Plaza. Different times, sometimes for a few minutes and sometimes for hours, but she was there, and Neal needed to talk to her. He just hoped she remembered the meanings behind his origami flowers.

Her face hadn’t changed a bit: oval, tanned, determined brown eyes, soft lips with just a hint of a sardonic smile, framed by long waves of rich brown hair. She was no longer wearing it in any semblance of a coiffure, letting it fall from the natural part at her crown; Neal remembered a time when she always had pulled it up, securing it with pins or clasps, keeping it out of her face while she worked.

Neal also remembered how easy it was to tell when she’d sighted a pickpocket mark. Confident almost to a fault, anyone who knew Alex knew the meaning of the crinkling at her eyes and the slight upturn of those generous lips.

Gauging the moment perfectly, knowing that Alex would studiously ignore the mark just long enough that no one would catch her staring, Neal glided around the garden between him and the mark. Without the slightest hesitation in his gait, Neal seamlessly bumped past the yuppie and swapped the mark’s wallet for an empty one… empty save a yellow lily.

Pausing to glance back, satisfied that the yuppie hadn’t noticed and kept going, Neal saw Alex pull the same trick barely a half-minute later. Her bump was punctuated with a smile and an apology, and Neal knew she had the wallet with his message. Keeping his back to her as she passed, Neal allowed himself a small smile. Alex was good; he respected her in the trade, but she hadn’t even realized that Neal was there, despite having passed close enough for Neal to smell her faint Givenchy perfume.

Following her to the upper deck above the ice rink, Neal took a position in plain sight near the flags and waited. Sure enough, Alex paused nearby to take stock of her new acquisition. The chagrin on her face was almost sweet as she withdrew the lily and looked around. Neal knew she understood precisely who the message was from, and he merely smiled with a shrug when Alex spotted him. “You telegraph your marks,” he advised as Alex approached, looking mildly annoyed.

“Four years in prison and you’re still the best,” Alex complained, leaning against the railing beside him. She’d known Neal Caffrey for a long time; it should have been a forgone conclusion that her coming back to New York meant he would come calling sooner or later. “Show off.”

Neal removed his sunglasses and turned to lean his back against the railing, actually feeling a little uncertain. He liked Alex, a lot. She had been a friend in the trade and an exciting acquaintance… someone else Neal couldn’t trust. Definitely someone Peter would not approve of Neal reconnecting with. “Miss me, Alex?”

“Never thought about it,” Alex lied smoothly. In truth, she had missed Neal, a little. He was fun, damn good-looking, and the one of the best the underworld had to offer. If you wanted someone for a job that you could actually trust not to stab you in the back, you found Neal Caffrey. “You have something that belongs to me.”

“Actually,” Neal replied slowly, retrieving the stolen wallet from his coat, “it, uh… belongs to a guy named Joe Nelson.” Having already removed everything but the cash, Neal handed Alex the wallet. Peter might have a map up on him right now, and the yuppie might be reporting his wallet stolen as they spoke. If Alex sold the information to an identity thief, Peter would hear about it and start asking uncomfortable questions. “Come on,” Neal reproved mildly. “You still running that trick?”

“Small amusements to keep the day interesting,” Alex defended, dropping the wallet into her voluminous purse without opening it and straightening up away from the rail. “Now whaddaya want, Caffrey?”

“Need your expertise.” Neal matched her stance, drawing a folded photograph printed from the computer at June’s from another pocket and handing it to Alex. “On this.”

 _Oh, Caffrey… you never give up, do you?_ “The music box.” Old regrets reflected on her face and in her voice, and then the mask slipped firmly back into place. “You finally admitting you never had it?” _Like I didn’t know that already?_

“You got closer than anyone else,” Neal pressed, stepping around the question.

“ _We_ got closer,” Alex corrected. “But… that didn’t work out.”

The regret was back. Neal was desperate enough to play it, despite his misgivings. He couldn’t trust Alex enough to tell her why the music box was so important… couldn’t tell her about Kate or Fowler or Peter… _Especially not Peter…_ “Maybe it will this time.”

The promises that voice could make… Alex remembered all too well the dangerous allure Neal Caffrey presented. He was beautiful, cunning, gifted… and his heart belonged to no one. “Sorry; I can’t help you,” Alex demurred, handing the folded photo back to Neal. “I gave up on that a long time ago.”

 _Oh, really? Alex, Alex… you were never any good at lying to me._ “Then why do you still carry this in your purse?” Neal challenged, holding up a small gilt figure of a baby seated on a sphere. “It’s a piece from the box, right?” Chagrin reflected on Alex’s face again, and Neal took a moment to enjoy the upper hand. “Know your mark… remember?”

Alex took the tiny figure: her talisman… her good luck charm. “Don’t fault me for nostalgia. I couldn’t bring myself to part with it.” It was obvious on Neal’s face that he didn’t believe her; Alex didn’t even believe herself. “I don’t know anything more about the music box.”

 _If she expects me to believe that, she must really think I’m out of practice at anything besides a quick pickpocket._ Handing her the lily from the wallet she’d returned, Neal tried to keep his voice even. He was desperate for information, and Alex couldn’t know that. “My number’s in here… in case.” She took it, finally, a soft smile of remembrance playing at her lips. Neal remembered, too; all too well. “Good to see you, Alex.” Leaving before he could give something away, Neal made his way out of the plaza and to the nearest coffee shop.

The yuppie’s cards and ID were slipped quickly into the empty wallet he’d used for the swap, and the barista inside the coffee shop had no trouble believing that Neal had simply found the wallet on the street. Settling in with a warm drink, Neal fought to steady his nerves.

Contacting Alex was a dangerous move. Not only was she well-connected and quite ruthless when necessary, Alex knew him far too well. If she found out more about his life now than Neal wanted her to know, it could mean the end of the line on the music box… at the very least.

His Blackberry rang and Neal almost jumped, lost in his thoughts. Jones was listed on the caller ID. “Yeah, Jones; what’s up?”

_“Peter wants you down at the surveillance site ASAP. We’ve got a situation.”_

Barely remembering the address Peter had given him, Neal finished his coffee in two swallows. “I’m on my way.”

* * *

The elegant house was filled with police and FBI and crime scene techs, but no one seemed overly anxious. No ambulances were sitting outside, and there was no evidence of a firefight. So there was nothing urgent in Neal’s stride as he mounted the stairs to where Peter was waiting; nothing causing him undue concern for Peter…

Until he saw the corpse lying prone on the hardwood floor.

Neal stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide. “That’s a dead body.” The words alone made him feel ill. And was there already a whiff of death on the breeze wafting through the house? When Peter did little more than acknowledge the truth of the statement, Neal pushed at the panic starting to course through him. He did _not_ like dead bodies… didn’t like them or the violence and ugliness they implied. “This doesn’t really fall into my area of expertise, Peter… murder isn’t an intellectual pursuit and I’m not really a dead-guy kinda guy so… I’m gonna go.”

Almost amused as Neal turned on his heels to flee, Peter elected to challenge his pride instead of running to catch him. There were too many people around. “You have a lot of rules for a guy who doesn’t play by them.”

 _Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to, Peter? I’ve played by every rule you and El have set for me and then some!_ Neal knew Peter had only said it to make him turn around, but he also knew ignoring Peter and beating a path out the door wasn’t likely to be an option. Peter wanted him here… with the dead body… “Yeah…” Turning again, Neal decided to give it one last try… maybe Peter would let him wait downstairs…

“Aldys Christopher Gray,” Peter called to Neal’s retreating form. He watched recognition of the name send a shock up Neal’s spine, watched Neal turn back with curiosity now lighting those blue eyes. _So beautifully responsive…_ “Heard of him?”

“Yeah… stock trader.” Neal walked back towards Peter, focusing on the solid, living form of his lover rather than the cold flesh on the floor. “Made a killing in derivatives right before the crash. He has quite the art collection.” Looking around, speculation filling his voice, Neal clung to the change in his focus. Anything to keep from thinking about the body under that sheet… “Maybe this is my area of expertise.”

“We’ve been sitting on him for three weeks,” Peter explained as Neal began examining the various objets d’art in the room. “Today, he comes home with a woman… possibly an escort. Someone takes a shot at him. By the time we get here: he’s dead; the killer’s gone.”

“So what am I doing here?” Neal asked, watching Peter pace across the room. It was unusual to see Peter without his jacket, sporting his shoulder holster over his shirt… the leather clung to those powerful muscles… Neal couldn’t help wanting to walk over and slide it off him… wanting to replace it and wrap himself around Peter… _Not now, Caffrey… he’s not thinking about sex right now and you’ve been having too much lately…_

“Something’s off!” Peter almost shouted in exasperation as Neal glanced around, catching sight of a leather bag on the floor, tagged with crime scene markers. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

“Where’s the witness?” Neal asked, stepping over to a crime scene kit and pulling on a pair of latex gloves. He was picking up on the vibe Peter was getting… something didn’t make sense… and the new element was the woman…

“She’s in shock,” Peter said, almost dismissively. “Had bruises all over her. Lauren traveled with her to the hospital with NYPD.”

 _I don’t think that was a good idea…_ “Walk me through it, Sherlock,” Neal quipped with a grin, stepping over to the bag lying on the floor.

 _Sherlock… right… real original, Neal…_ “Yeah… all right. The witness says that the shooter was already inside.”

Picking up the top of the opening, Neal peered inside. “This the girl’s purse?”

“She and Gray came in,” Peter continued, not answering the question and almost not hearing him. “There was a struggle; shots were fired…” Peter paced past Neal as Neal knelt near the bag, talking to himself and to Neal… if he went through it enough times, Peter was sure he’d see what was missing… “Gray ends up here. Now, I…” Peter turned to see Neal looking at a card from Pierce’s wallet, apparently not even following Peter’s run through of the stated events. “Are you paying attention?”

“Yeah…” Neal was focused on the Canadian ID card… something was off about it… “Yeah, I can multi-task.” As Peter continued with his explanation, Neal all but tuned him out. Something was about this ID… he needed to be sure… glancing back at the crime scene kit, Neal removed a bottle of what he hoped was water or some other non-corrosive chemical, stepped to the sideboard and poured some of the liquid into one of the glasses on the tray.

Peter finally noticed that Neal was doing something other than providing Peter with undivided attention. “I’m sorry,” he said acidly. “Am I boring you?”

Shushing Peter absently, Neal dipped the ID into the glass, swirled it quickly, and then pulled it out. Sure enough, it was starting to blotch. “It’s a fake.”

“What?” Peter stepped over quickly, needing to see what Neal had found.

“Ink hasn’t had time to fully dry, but this is high-end work, Peter.” Neal handed the card to Peter, breathing in the lingering scent of Peter’s aftershave and concentrating on the gentle curve of his jaw… there was still that damned body nearby… “You can’t just get this on the street.”

“No, you can’t,” Peter agreed, taking in the smeared ink with a sick feeling in his gut. _After all this time in the Bureau, I should know better than to take any scene at face value, especially when something doesn’t feel right…_ “Jones!”

“Yeah?”

“Run indices on Pierce Spelman,” Peter instructed quickly. “And call Lauren. I wanna see if we can get a real name off of Pierce. Her ID is a fake.” As Jones moved to comply, Peter suddenly turned and looked at the dirt spilled across the floor from the potted plant that had been overturned. Stepping past Gray’s body, he turned and crouched to get a good look at the soles of Gray’s shoes. The dirt was there… staring him in the face… “She used his shoe to make an impression in the dirt.”

Peter looked up at Neal, realization dawning and intensifying the gnawing pit in his stomach. He’d sent Lauren to escort Pierce… alone… with no idea that her guard should be up… it was the kind of mistaken assumption that got agents killed. “She’s not a witness; she’s the shooter.” Neal nodded, his own apprehension transparent on his face. He’d made the leap with Peter. “No one else was in the room,” Peter finished as Jones came up the stairs at a run.

“Nurses at the hospital took Pierce in for a private exam,” Jones reported. “Left her alone to undress? She slipped out the back. She’s gone.”

Neal watched the full measure of the blunder hit Peter and wanted to hold him, to comfort him, to tell him that they would find Pierce, or whoever she really was, and that no one else would die. He knew Peter would blame himself if someone else did die, would consider himself responsible because he’d fallen for a woman’s pretended fear.

The room exploded into a furious hive of activity. Peter was issuing orders, his dark eyes angry and his tone clipped. Neal melted into the background right at Peter’s side, predicting his movements and moving with him and staying just a few inches from Peter’s elbow… Peter needed Neal close at hand, but not to be tripping over him…

When they were finally in Peter’s car and heading for the office, Neal reached out and placed a comforting hand on Peter’s thigh. “It’s not your fault,” he assured Peter gently. “Whoever she is, she staged that scene pretty effectively, and you said yourself she was covered in bruises. Anyone else in your position would have believed her.”

A muscle in Peter’s jaw ticked. “Tell me how that’s going to be a comfort to Gray’s wife… especially if we don’t find this girl.”

“It won’t,” Neal conceded. “Nothing about this will comfort her… but that’s not your fault, either, Peter.”

Another muscle in his jaw ticked, and Peter glanced at Neal briefly. It was the kind of comfort Peter was used to receiving from Elizabeth. It was nice to get it in the moment… not hours later when he’d had time to brood over things all day… his right hand slipped from the steering wheel and entwined with Neal’s left, and Peter felt the tense knot in his chest start to relax. “Thank you, sweetheart… do me a favor and remind me of that a couple dozen more times this afternoon?”

Neal smiled. “You got it.”

Peter did not release Neal’s hand until they arrived at the FBI office and had to get out of the car.


	2. Home Invasion Redux - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see Chapter One for notes, warnings, disclaimer and song list.

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/ladyeternal/pic/00004ab7/)

~ooooOOOoooo~

 

Arriving at the Bureau offices early the next morning raised a few eyebrows, especially Hughes’, but Neal didn’t particularly care about that. Since he hadn’t spent the night with Peter, Neal had no idea how Peter might be handling the guilt that was probably still gnawing at him. After meeting with an understandably-distraught Mrs. Aldys Gray, Peter had worked like a demon well into the evening, almost ignoring Neal as he used his considerable talents for investigation to start hunting Pierce Spelman.

It was an opportunity to see a new reflection of Peter’s original hunt for him, and Neal was surprised at the intensity Peter could truly bring to his work. The fire in those russet eyes was no sensual blaze to melt the senses. This was Hellfire for the condemned…

But Peter didn’t arrive at the Bureau when he usually did the next morning. In fact, he was over an hour late. Neal contemplated calling Peter half a dozen times, talking himself out of doing so each time by reminding himself that Peter might be following a lead personally… that Peter was taking this case personally because Pierce had tricked him into thinking she was just a frightened witness… Taking up position at the desk nearest the door, Neal waited and watched over the rim of files he was barely paying attention to… he wanted to see Peter come off that elevator, alive and whole…

When Peter finally all but stumbled through the door, under the weight of two huge travel bags and out of breath, Neal almost couldn’t find words in the jumble of confused reactions that clamored in his head. _He’s alive… he didn’t take some crazy risk like I would and get hurt looking for Pierce… but what are the bags for? Is he going somewhere and didn’t tell me? He’s out of breath; flushed; he’s in too good of shape to be having a heart attack… did I ever find out anything about Peter’s family medical history? I’d better talk to El…_ “You’re late,” Neal managed to comment innocuously. “You’re never late.”

“Rough morning,” Peter replied, adjusting a bag that was falling from his shoulder. “Had to take the subway in. Do you know how hard it is to rush when you’re carrying this many bags?”

 _Subway… meaning that El has the car. What the Hell happened last night? And why didn’t Peter call me?_ “Did Elizabeth kick you out?” Neal hoped not, but it was a very real possibility… that somehow, even after all her forbearance and all her assurances, Elizabeth had grown tired of sharing Peter and was pushing him away…

“No!” Peter wondered what the Hell had gotten into Neal to ask that question. He didn’t want to tell Neal about this… didn’t want to involve him. Involving Neal meant asking, or being asked, to stay at June’s, and Peter knew himself very well. It wasn’t a good idea.

“Then why the bags?” Neal pressed. _What’s going on, Peter? Why are you shutting me out?_

“You ask too many questions.” _I can take care of this just fine without relying on Neal… I can’t ask him for this… can’t let myself get so used to having him that letting go will be impossible… I have to draw a line in the sand somewhere…_ Starting for his office, Peter glanced at Lauren. “Lauren, you looking up that stuff?”

“On it.” Lauren watched the tension between Neal and Peter, wondering at it. Peter’s request this morning had come as a surprise to her as well; it made no sense to be looking for a hotel when Neal was staying with one of the most gracious hostesses in Manhattan. June had to have more than one spare bedroom in that mansion of hers.

Ignoring Lauren’s speculative glance and Neal’s concern, Peter focused on just getting the bags which were growing heavier by the second up the stairs. “Jones… we any closer to finding our missing girl?”

“Well, we don’t have much to go on,” Jones admitted. “Fake name; no match to the prints found in the room. All we’ve got is a purse. We’ll get that from ERT this afternoon.”

“All right: stay on it.” Pushing forward, Peter somehow managed to climb the stairs without falling over. _I packed way too much stuff… should’ve remembered to handle this before now… that’ll teach me to get so wrapped up in sex with Neal and El… they’re both too damned beautiful…_ “I want a briefing as soon as it gets here!” he called over his shoulder.

Deciding to give Peter some space, especially with the sudden shift in his mood, Neal concentrated on the research he’d started this morning. Something was off, and Neal wanted to give Peter time to relax a little before pressing him again. The moment Jones got the call that ERT had the evidence processed and waiting, however, Neal was sprinting up to Peter’s office. “Jones got the call; he’s picking up the evidence now.”

Glancing up from his desk, Peter could see the confusion and the curiosity behind Neal’s eyes. He wanted to assuage them; knew Neal would eventually get the answers out of him; but Peter wanted to try and put it off for a day… maybe two… _An entire week in Neal’s suite… in his bed… living together instead of just passionate nights or weekends… it’s too tempting by half… and could be a complete disaster…_ “Good. You find anything about the ID?”

“A couple names,” Neal said, following as Peter rose and walked into the conference room past him. “The fact that it’s fresh means she had it made locally, but that doesn’t mean we’ll get a real name for her even if we find who made it. She probably gave the printer an alias and cash for the job… and you remember how hard it was pinning all of my aliases on me.”

Peter nodded, knowing it had been a slender chance at finding any real information to begin with. But Jones came in with the box from ERT, and Peter wanted any information they could find to track Pierce down. It was just Peter’s luck that as Jones was opening the evidence box, Neal standing right at Peter’s side, Lauren walked in with a batch of computer print-outs. “Your options,” she declared brightly, handing him the papers.

Neal was peering over Peter’s shoulder in a heartbeat, scanning the pages. “Hotel rooms?” _Why is Peter looking into hotels? Is he going away with El? Is he planning some kind of surprise? Or was I right, and El’s tolerance of this… us… has worn out after all?_ “Peter, what did you do?”

 _Damn it… all right; time to get it over with. He was going to find out sooner or later, anyway._ “We’re upgrading our wiring system,” Peter admitted. “Getting the whole HD-surround sound put in. El took the dog and the car to her sister’s upstate. Good news is: once this is all in place, I can watch the game… once the power’s back on.”

“How long will it be out?” Jones asked, now curious himself.

“Couple days,” Peter replied, absently flipping through the pages before stopping at an image of a television screen that looked as big as his living room in Brooklyn. “Hence, the hotel.”

“Thompson Hotel,” Lauren supplied, noticing the page Peter had stopped at. “You wanted a big TV? They have the biggest.”

“How much is this?” Peter asked eagerly. _Now this place, I could relax in… invite Neal over for room service and hotel room sex…_

“Eight hundred twenty five dollars a night,” Lauren admitted. “With our government discount.”

Peter’s jaw dropped. “Next,” he insisted immediately, dropping the print-out. _I can’t afford that… El would kill me if I even thought about it… she told me to just stay with Neal…_

“Peter, it’s ridiculous for you to stay in a hotel when there’s more than enough room at June’s.” Neal tried to conceal how much the entire discussion hurt. _Peter needs a place to stay and he didn’t even consider asking me? Why? Is he afraid June will figure out what’s going on? As if she hasn’t already… he had no intention of telling me he needed help. El was right._

“Thanks… I… I’ll be fine.” Peter tried to ignore the temptation to accept the offer, surprised at how strong it was despite the fact that he’d known it would come and he’d already resolved not to accept it. _A week in Neal’s bed… no distractions… and El would be okay with it… God, it would be nice… every comfort a man could want, and Neal warm and willing in my arms every night…_ Trying to concentrate, Peter flipped through the next hotel’s information. “This one has a pool… never had a pool.”

“Four hundred twenty five dollars a night,” Lauren informed him quickly. Jones let out a low whistle.

 _Okay… apparently, I really can’t afford the finer things in life… sometimes, I really don’t wonder why Neal chose a life of crime…_ Taking the rest of the papers from Lauren, Peter quickly flipped though them. “Let’s go to the bottom of the pile.” Grabbing a pamphlet for the Empire, he tossed the other offerings on the table and held it up to Lauren. “Ah… here we go. That one?”

“Fifty-nine bucks.”

“Book it,” Peter instructed before he could change his mind.

Lauren grabbed the brochure with a too-sweet smile. She knew her boss too well. “Already did,” she replied airily as she left the room.

 _Why on Earth is Peter choosing to stay in a motel like the Empire when he’s got Neal? Doesn’t make any sense…_ Jones looked at Peter in confusion. “Isn’t that the place you put Neal when he was first released?”

“They have an interesting no-heat policy.” Neal felt panic start to clutch in his chest at the thought of Peter anywhere near that rat-hole no-tell. _Peter might as well have “Federal Agent” tattooed on his forehead… and there are people staying there who wouldn’t hesitate to make sure he never woke up…_

“I don’t need amenities.” Peter didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want Jones joining in on Neal’s attempt to dissuade him from staying in a hotel. Didn’t want to give up his line drawn in the sand. “Just give me a wall, a TV and a bed and I’m happy.”

 _Oh, yeah, Peter… you really expect me to believe that? When you opine about June’s Italian roast and I see the way you look at my view of the skyline? When the home you share with Elizabeth is full of light and comfort? That’s not just because El wants it that way. I know you, Peter…_ “Are you serious?” Neal asked, trying not to push Peter too hard. Peter was resisting him every step of the way, and Neal couldn’t remind him of the real benefits of staying at June’s in the middle of the FBI office. “Peter, mi casa es su casa.”

“Su casa es not even su casa,” Peter rejoined shortly, ignoring the flash of hurt in Neal’s eyes. _I’m staying in a hotel, and that’s it… line in the sand._ “Jones, what have we got?”

 _This isn’t going to go well for the boss… I can tell right now…_ “Okay… these are the items from the woman’s purse,” Jones advised, having laid out the evidence bags while Neal and Peter argued over hotel rooms. “Name on the ID’s Pierce Spelman, but the card’s a fake. No record of her prints. We found the gun stuffed inside the fireplace: wiped of prints, serial number filed off.”

“Whoever she is, she’s good,” Neal commented as he picked up a bag with a piece of paper inside. She’d covered her tracks admirably; it wasn’t going to be easy to find her, which wasn’t going to do Peter’s mood any good.

“That looks like a to-do list,” Jones said, noting the bag Neal was holding.

“That’s an odd list of activities,” Peter observed, peering at the page as Neal read off the nonsensical words.

Neal could already see that this wasn’t just someone’s shorthand. His mind filtered through the possibilities, already moving beyond his irritation and hurt over Peter choosing a no-tell over him. “It’s a code,” he told Peter absently, trying to work it in his mind… he’d always been good at codes… tried to teach them to Kate…

Peter took the list from him and Neal felt like Peter had just flipped off the lights. He wasn’t finished with it yet. “Get this to the cryptanalyst,” Peter instructed Jones, “then back to me. I’ve got to go check into my hotel.”

“Uh, no… no, no… _motel_ … motel with an ‘m’,” Neal insisted as Peter rose to leave. He didn’t want Peter near that place… he was trying to hide it by appearing amused, but he really didn’t want Peter there. It wasn’t safe… But when Peter merely shot Neal a hard glance and left, Neal could only turn back to the evidence Jones was piling back into the file box with a sigh. “Let me see that page again?”

Jones handed it to him, gauging Neal carefully for a moment. “You and Peter having, uh… _problems_ lately?” he asked softly. Neal’s head shot up in surprise, catching the inflection, and Jones gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Neal… I figured it out. We’re cool.”

His eyes still a little wide, Neal grasped for an answer. What could he say that would convince Jones he was wrong? “Peter just doesn’t want to accept hospitality from his pet con, that’s all,” he finally said. “Nothing else going on, Jones.”

A wry smile quirked Jones’ lips. “If you say so, Neal… but just so you know? I’ve got your backs if you need it.”

Neal’s eyes softened, feeling a little of the panic recede. Jones was loyal to Peter… apparently, loyal enough not to care that his boss was sleeping with their male consultant when he wasn’t going home to his wife. Whatever the reason for it, Neal was grateful that Jones was in their corner. “Thanks, Jones… mind if I make a copy of this before it goes to cryptanalysis? I’m pretty good at this stuff.”

“Sure.” Jones gave Neal another reassuring smile before stepping out to talk with Lauren. _Wait ‘til I tell Diana she was right…_

* * *

Not wanting to think about Peter electing to stay at the Empire rather than with him, Neal took off early from the Bureau and headed back to June’s with the note sheet carefully tucked into his pocket. June had an entire library of intellectual games, and the Scrabble set was perfect for his purposes. Setting up the board, he quickly laid out the tiles to form the words on the list.

No matter how he rearranged the letters… no matter what replacement system he tried… something eluded him. It didn’t make any sense… what kind of code had Pierce used here? How sophisticated was she? Switching tiles… making notes on a legal pad… he was eliminating a lot of options but making no intuitive leaps… Neal hated it when codes refused to break…

An unexpected knock at the door. Had Peter come to his senses after all? “Yeah… coming.” Moving quickly to open the door, Neal was startled to see not Peter… not June or Moz… but Alex on the other side.

“You’re a bastard,” Alex snarled, walking past him into the suite.

 _Not the first time she’s called me that… wonder how she found me…_ “Good evening, Alex.” Neal’s tone was low and playful as he closed the door, hoping she was still wasn’t immune to his charms. If she was here… if she would let her guard down just a little…

“I looked into you, Caffrey.” Alex looked around the suite, taking in the plush accommodations… _Somehow, no matter what, Caffrey always lands on his feet. God, it’s annoying sometimes…_ “Know your mark, right? You’ve turned fed?”

 _Damn… I wonder how far that’s gone in the rounds… could complicate things in the long run… and I really didn’t want her to know anyway._ “I was forced fed,” Neal lied, putting on his best innocent expression.

“That’s funny, Neal.” Alex paced through the suite, refusing to sit still. Neal could see her assessing exit strategies… looking for places where wires or cameras could be hidden… “I know it’s been a while, but it’s, uh… still my job to dig up confidential information.”

“Occupational hazard?” _Come on, Alex… just give me one opening… I know you’ve still got a soft spot for me… just give me one opening…_

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” Alex finally approached him, not sure whether Neal thought she was just stupid, careless or sentimental. _He’s turned fed… and he… what? Thought I wouldn’t care? Is this a sting?_

Neal took a deep breath, deciding to try and obfuscate a little. “It was a small hope,” he admitted truthfully. He’d genuinely hoped that Alex wouldn’t look into his current situation… hoped she would assume he’d just gone straight back into the life… “Okay… okay. Every now and again, they go after some Madoff-type guy and ask me how he did it. Other than that, I barely communicate with them.”

The skepticism was written across her face so clearly, it might as well have been neon light. “Then why the anklet?”

“They don’t like me much.” _That part’s true… I’m not even sure how much Peter likes me, other than liking me in bed…_ “They use the anklet to track me remotely so they don’t have to deal with me in person.”

 _It sounds good… sounds like truth… but Caffrey’s a damn good liar. Always was._ “Are you trying to set me up?”

“I’m trying to get something we both want,” Neal replied quickly. His voice dropped to a low, comforting timbre, smooth and enveloping… he needed Alex to trust him… not completely… just enough… “What’d you find, Alex?”

 _Damn… he really is still that good…_ Taking a step back, Alex shook her head. “No… I don’t tell you anything until you answer my questions, Caffrey.”

Shrugging, Neal played it off. She was at least willing to listen; the door was still partly open. “Okay… have a seat. Want a glass of wine?”

“Nope.” Alex sat down at the table and waited. Neal sat calmly, his expression almost serene. _Nothing gets through Neal Caffrey’s cool… not much anyway._ “Why the sudden curiosity about the music box?”

 _No foreplay… Alex is playing it safe…_ “Couldn’t look for it in prison,” Neal replied, again being completely honest. He’d thought about the music box more than once while he was inside, wondering how he would track it down again after his sentence was over. “But I’m out now… and I was starting to miss you.” _Now that’s a lie… I’ve been a little too busy to miss Alex, between Kate and Peter…_

It was obvious that Alex fell for it, just a little. Even as she gave a sarcastic “nice try” in response, there was a soft expression in her eyes as she looked briefly away. “I tracked down the fence who gave me this,” she continued, producing the small gilt figurine from the music box. “He says there’s been a sudden interest in the box.”

 _Interest… and not just me and Moz… means Fowler and Kate are looking for it, too… if they’ve figured out I really don’t have it… if it’s a race to see who finds it first…_ All pretense dropped as Neal stared at her, his expression intent. “Does he know who has it?”

 _That hit a nerve… what the Hell is going on with him and how is the music box tied up in it?_ “He still won’t tell me how he got this,” Alex admitted, giving Neal a bit of truth in return.

“We have to find it before someone else does,” Neal insisted, his tone quiet and urgent. _Someone else being Fowler… I have to get it first… it’s the only way I can be sure Peter will be safe… and Kate…_

“What is going on?” Alex demanded again. “This isn’t just about the box.” A knock at the door saved Neal from scrambling for an answer that wouldn’t give too much away. If Alex knew about Fowler and Kate, Neal was sure he could kiss her and any information she had access to goodbye. Alex gave Neal a quick look. “You get a lot of late-night visitors.”

“Yeah, it’s probably just my landlady.” Neal prayed it was June, come to say goodnight… or Moz, who might annoy Alex a little but wouldn’t send her running… “Who is it?”

_“Peter.”_

Alex sat back with a girlish grin. She’d always pegged Caffrey as batting for both teams. “Who’s Peter?” _And if he’s cute… can I watch?_

Neal was too panicked to notice her assumption. Peter was the very _**last**_ person who needed to be showing up right now, despite Neal’s relief at what was undoubtedly the reason. “Oh, he’s… he’s just a friend, but he _cannot_ know you’re here about the music box. We need a cover.”

Shrugging, Alex stood up and shimmied off her short skirt. _Wouldn’t be the first time… and if boy-friend out there is adventurous, it might not be a wasted night…_

“What are you doing?” Neal asked. Alex hadn’t undressed in front of him in… years…

“Why else would I be here?” Alex asked. _God, Caffrey… you keep proving you’re not out of practice… why so slow on the uptake?_

Laughing as her vest came off, revealing a short black satin chemise, Neal stood and loosened his tie. “Just like old times.” _I can tell Peter later that it was just for show… just so Alex wouldn’t suspect… I’d never actually break any of Elizabeth’s rules and Peter knows that…_ Peter called to Neal through the door as Neal untucked his shirt, opened his collar button and approached the door. “Coming!” He glanced at Alex, who was walking towards the bed with an unhurried stride. “You good?”

When Alex waved him off, Neal mussed his hair the way he knew Peter loved and opened the door. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked, more for Alex’s benefit than any real question about Peter’s motives. “What’re you doing here?”

Peter pushed past him, just relieved that Neal had let him in. June hadn’t been awake and Peter hadn’t wanted to sleep down in the library in his clothes. He wanted Neal… wanted to curl that beautiful body against his own and just be glad that Neal wasn’t staying in that place… lines in the sand be damned… “Oh… I am so sorry for barging in, but I…” Peter glanced at the table and saw the Scrabble board. The leather coat across the chair. The clothing on the floor near the table. The purse in the chair.

 _No… no, that purse isn’t Kate’s style… the jacket maybe… the clothes maybe… but not the purse… so who…?_ Turning his head towards the bedroom, almost afraid to know, Peter took in the sight of a tall, slender brunette that was decidedly not Kate Moreau lounging on Neal’s bed in a black satin chemise, dark nylons and knee-high leather boots. _No… Neal wouldn’t… he just wouldn’t… there’s another explanation… there has to be…_ “Oh… I’m really sorry,” was all Peter could think to say.

“No, no; it’s fine!” Neal could tell that Peter honestly believed that he’d interrupted something… was more than a little hurt that Peter would believe him that faithless in the face of Elizabeth’s rules… “She was just leaving.”

“No, no, no!” Peter turned back to Neal, wanting it to be some kind of colossal trick… a misunderstanding… maybe she’d seduced Neal and he’d interrupted before Neal had a chance to say no… “I’ll go.”

“Are you a friend of Neal’s?” Coming off the bed, putting on her best ‘I haven’t a brain in my head’ voice, Alex walked over to the man that Neal was obviously keeping company with. _Funny… he doesn’t quite have the look of a mark… Caffrey must have something special planned for this one if he’s got the guy coming over long enough at a stretch to bring luggage…_

“You could say that, yes.” Peter was stumbling, trying to remember how he handled things like this back in college… it had been so long since anyone had asked Peter if he was friends with someone he was sleeping with… going for politesse, Peter extended his hand. “Peter Burke.”

Alex accepted it without giving her own name. Something was off about this guy… the handshake was a little too firm… “How do you two know each other?”

Peter saw Neal signaling behind Alex, trying to tell him not to say something… but what? Deny being a lover, or deny being a fed? _Neal has a reason for having her half-undressed… and whatever he’s up to, telling her I’m his lover will probably screw that up._ “I’m an FBI agent,” Peter announced.

Neal’s defeated, exasperated expression was punctuated by the door to the suite slamming closed as he turned away. _Peter… I really need you to learn how to read lips… Goddammit, that was the absolute last thing I needed you to say!_

Knowing he’d somehow made the wrong choice, Peter tried to play it cool even as the girl’s open smile became a too-bright grin. _Damn it… who is this girl and what does Neal want with her?_ “How’s it going?” Peter asked lamely, knowing that there was probably no salvaging whatever Neal had been doing here.

 _Don’t have to deal with you directly, huh, Neal? Screwing an FBI agent on top of everything else… Caffrey’s got stones, I’ll give him that._ “FBI,” Alex echoed. “Interesting.” Walking back towards the table, Alex stepped into her skirt, bent and pulled it back up over her chemise. “Lovely to see you as always, Neal.”

Her tone had such a saccharine knife-edge that Peter had to wonder just precisely what Neal was playing at here… and how long it would take him to find out everything there was to know about this girl. “Hey, don’t leave on account of me.”

“Oh, no… no, no.” Alex pulled on her vest, refusing to let her anger show. _This is the absolute last time that I fall for those baby blues and stop trusting my instincts. Caffrey’s gone white hat._ Turning, she fixed Neal with a meaningful half-glare. “We’re done.” As she turned back to take up her purse and coat, Alex moved three letters on the Scrabble board. _Fed… Neal Caffrey turned fed… never thought I’d see the day._ Without needing to say another word, her expression conveying whole volumes, Alex stepped past Neal, opened the door and left without so much as a backward glance at his FBI agent/lover.

Neal closed the door, sagging against it for a moment. _That is **so not** how I needed that to go._

“Nice girl,” Peter commented, stepping over to the table to set his bags down and see what she’d done with the letters. _Fed… wonder what message that’s supposed to send Neal… and why it upset her so much that I’m in the FBI._

“Yeah,” Neal replied tightly. It wasn’t Peter’s fault… not really… the whole thing had been primed for disaster since Peter had knocked on the door, no matter what Alex might have been told about their relationship. “She’s an old friend.”

“You’ve got better looking friends than I do.” Peter paced away from Neal, glancing reflexively at the bed. It was still made… the comforter didn’t even appear rumpled… _Whatever they were doing, they weren’t getting that serious about it… not yet, anyway…_ “What about, uh… Kate?” _Oh, good job, Burke… try to be subtle by asking about the girl you **really** don’t want Caffrey thinking about…_

Following Peter, Neal tried to ignore the stab of hurt that accompanied Kate’s name. He hadn’t really been about to seduce Alex: for information or anything else… but what if tonight was the night Kate risked all and came to him here? What if it had been Kate to find him in the same room with Alex and a bed close at hand? “Well… you told me to forget her,” Neal answered carefully. _You make me forget her… make me forget everything but the touch of your hands and the sound of your voice…_

“And you listened to me?” Peter didn’t believe it for a second. Neal was still looking for the music box… there was still the lovelorn melancholy in his eyes when Peter caught him in an unguarded moment…

“There’s a first time for everything.” _Peter, come on… stop trying to avoid what just happened and talk to me… ask me about Alex… demand to know why she was half-dressed in my bed… why aren’t you upset?_

 _If I just ignore it… whatever it was, I’ll find out soon enough… and if I can get that tile off the board and into a bag before Neal touches the board again, I can find out exactly why she turned tail over me being a fed._ Spying the chessboard on the book shelf, Peter picked up a pawn, gauging what the next move would be for a game that was obviously in progress. “Oh… who ya playing?”

“Please don’t touch that!” Neal was surprised at the sharpness of his tone, especially since it made Peter jump. _It’s not his fault… it’s really not… why am I so jumpy right now? It’s not like he’s never been here before… it’s because of Alex. It must be… and the fact that he all but said he’d rather chew broken glass than come stay with me while the power’s out at his house._ “What are you doing here? What happened to the hotel?”

“Motel,” Peter corrected, echoing Neal’s words earlier in the day. “And it was occupied.”

 _I’m not surprised… but that doesn’t explain where he’s been all day… unless he headed back to the office after I left, he must’ve tried every low-priced hotel in the city before coming here._ Keeping his umbrage to himself, Neal merely nodded. “Oh… dog staying there?”

“Yeah! What’s with the dog?” _I’ve never had a dog react like that to me in my life… and either that place isn’t carrying any liability insurance or no one who stays there can afford to sue if the dog attacks them._

“Now you understand why I was forced to seek other accommodations,” Neal insisted. _Maybe now he understands… now that he’s seen it… not just remembering me wanting better, but seeing how bad it really was._

Peter grinned. “Lucky for us.” _I don’t know what we would have done if Neal had stayed there… I shudder to think about using that place for a rendezvous… and I’m not sure how tolerant of all this El would be if it was happening at the house…_

“Us?” _Now you’re thinking of us? Now that you’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel? Am I supposed to be flattered here, Peter?_

“Yeah. Su casa es mi casa, right?” When Neal just nodded, looking a little startled and not quite angry, Peter couldn’t resist the urge to mess with him just a little. “Right? Yes… oh, I just got hungry.” Dropping onto the couch, Peter watched with a barely suppressed grin as Neal tried to disguise his disbelief. _Now I know why El messes with my mind all the time… it’s actually kinda fun._ “Where’s the remote?”

 _Okay… it’s official. Peter has been replaced by some kind of outlandish pod person. That’s the only explanation._ “This is gonna be really fun,” Neal muttered, turning towards the kitchen.

He’d barely taken a step before Peter was there, wrapped around him from behind and kissing the back of his neck. “I’m kidding, sweetheart… I’m definitely not hungry… for food, anyway.”

Neal’s eyes slid closed, his pulse skittering into overdrive as he sank back into the Peter he knew. “You’re a bastard sometimes… you know that?”

Peter’s hands, which had been unfastening Neal’s shirt buttons, stilled instantly. _Okay… apparently I pushed a little too far… and Neal was already upset over the girl… El’s definitely better at this kind of thing._ “That mean you’ve got a headache tonight?”

 _He actually would stop… would let me say not tonight… if I asked, he might even stay in the guest room down the hall…_ Neal shook as he tried to get his emotions under control. Too much had happened in the space of a few minutes, and Peter had no idea how much of a roller coaster Neal had been on today emotionally…

The momentary silence had Peter starting to release him, stepping back. “I’ll go,” he said softly. “I know there’s another bedroom down the hall…”

Instinct took over. There were things Neal needed on a visceral level that overrode everything else, and Peter’s touch was one of them… Peter’s arms were his safe place… Neal turned and launched into Peter’s embrace, hands grabbing fistfuls of Peter’s hair and using the leverage to drag Peter’s mouth to his own for an almost savage kiss. “June is joining me for breakfast, so we can’t forget to put something on before we sleep tonight.”

Azure flame lit russet embers, and Peter’s arms were steel bands as he spun Neal back into the bedroom. Neal broke from his arms and sprawled across the bed with a gasp, and Peter followed him down, and Neal’s hands found purchase in Peter’s hair again and anchored as Neal kissed him again, open and artless and hungry…

Clothing couldn’t come off fast enough. Neal wasn’t thinking about being Peter’s last choice anymore. No longer cared that Peter may have completely annihilated any chance Neal had of getting Alex to help find the music box. Didn’t even give a damn that Peter got his trousers tangled around the anklet and tore the hem in his clumsy haste to remove them. All Neal cared about was leaving dark, possessive suck marks on Peter’s chest, his teeth nipping sharply into Peter’s skin and making Peter cry Neal’s name as Neal pushed him down onto the bed where Alex had lounged.

It wasn’t until Neal tried to go down on Peter without even a drop of lube that Peter finally managed to regain control of the situation. Grabbing Neal’s waist, Peter flipped their bodies over and dropped Neal onto his stomach. Placing his left hand firmly between Neal’s shoulder blades to keep him still, Peter traced warm, open-mouthed kisses over Neal’s spine.

Neal writhed under Peter’s hand, all but shrieking as he tried to regain his leverage. He needed Peter in him and needed it now. But Peter wouldn’t heed him, just kept nibbling and kissing and teasing until Neal’s hips were arching off the bed in invitation and that silver tongue could barely form Peter’s name…

The controlling pressure slid to the small of Neal’s back, Peter’s free right hand catching Neal’s hip. Neal wasn’t sure he could handle more gentleness… not when he needed Peter hard and deep and right now…

That tongue… Neal remembered that tongue as it found him again… his teeth sank into the pillow beneath his face to muffle his shriek as Peter tongued the tight ring between his cheeks… it was always so unexpected when Peter did this… melting every neuron Neal had to slag and setting his entire body on fire… and then that right hand slid between Neal and the sheets, and Peter was wriggling his tongue just inside as his fingers stroked Neal’s aching erection…

Starbursts went off behind Neal’s eyes, his entire body thrashing from the force of his orgasm. Tears were leaking from Neal’s eyes as he cried out, long and loud, and then Peter’s fingers withdrew to replace his tongue, and Neal realized with a shock what Peter was doing… _He’s using my own come to prep me… oh, God that’s so dirty and so hot and God, yes…_

Peter’s left hand slid under Neal’s waist, pulling him upright as a third finger slowly worked its way in with the first two. Neal’s hands clawed for purchase and Peter pressed him forward, bracing Neal’s hands against the headboard. Neal’s breath shook, gasping, unsure… memories starting to crowd him…

And then Peter’s arms were around his chest, the ring Neal still wore pressed between Peter’s warm left palm and Neal’s oversensitive skin. Neal’s hips pressed back, seeking, and Peter slid to the hilt without hesitation. “I’m right here, sweetheart… I’m right here…”

Shuddering like a fly-stung horse, Neal stayed braced against the headboard and focused on those arms… warm, safe, strong arms… Peter… Peter was here and Neal was safe… and then Peter was giving Neal what he wanted… what he needed… maddeningly slow, gradually building… faster and faster until Neal couldn’t hear anything but the roar of his pulse in his ears and his own voice moaning for Peter not to stop…

The sun went nova inside Neal’s mind and the world slid away, and all he knew was Peter was still holding him when reality returned. “Peter…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Peter kissed his cheek, limbs trembling from the force of his own release. He hadn’t known until that moment that it hadn’t really mattered why Alex was there. She was a beautiful woman in Neal’s bed and that was unacceptable. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Neal let out a shaky little laugh, still not daring to open his eyes for fear the world was still tilting wildly on its axis. Nothing felt stable; Neal was sure he’d crumple to a heap if Peter let go. “I wasn’t really seducing Alex,” he almost blurted, his usual restraint on his words gone in a heartbeat. “I wouldn’t break Elizabeth’s rules… not even for the music box.”

 _So she’s got a connection to the box… even more reason to find out who she is… and that’s part of a name. Alex…_ “I know, Neal.” Peter tried to wait until Neal felt more steady, to let Neal’s composure return. But Neal was still shaking and Peter finally just pulled Neal down to the mattress with him, curling Neal up against his chest and brushing kisses over his hairline. “I’m sorry I didn’t just ask to stay here… but I honestly didn’t even remember this was happening until this morning and it was such short notice…” _And I keep trying to convince myself that there will ever be a way for me to let you go… that if I just don’t do one thing, I’ll find the strength to let you leave me someday…_

“You don’t even have to ask, Peter. You should know that by now.” Finally feeling his nerves stop jumping like live wires, Neal looked up at Peter with a gentle smile. “I know it’s not home… but it’s always here if you need it.”

Brushing a hand through Neal’s hair, Peter indulged a tender kiss to Neal’s lips before slowly letting go. “We should wash up and get some sleep,” Peter replied. “Morning’s coming early.”

Nodding, Neal returned the gentle kiss before gathering the strength to roll away from the security of those arms.


	3. Home Invasion Redux – Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see Chapter One for notes, warnings, disclaimer and song list.

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/ladyeternal/pic/00004ab7/)

~ooooOOOoooo~

 

Waking before Neal, Peter allowed himself a few moments of quiet contentment. There was only one thing Peter Burke loved more in the world than the feel of his wife, warm and snuggling in his arms, and that was the feel of Neal Caffrey in a similar state. _If I’d taken care of things sooner and booked a hotel that wasn’t a den of iniquity, I probably would have wound up here anyway. It’s too hard to stay away from him… there are so many reasons why this is a bad idea… but when I’m here, wrapped up with him and he fits so perfectly in my arms… it’s hard to remember them…_

Reluctantly, Peter slipped from the bed, dropping a kiss to Neal’s forehead to quiet him when he stirred. If June was joining Neal for breakfast, then Peter needed to get a shower without convincing Neal to join him there. They had a tendency to lose track of time when he did.

Passing the Scrabble board, the ‘fed’ that Alex had spelled out last night was still there. With a quick glance at Neal, Peter found a ziplock bag from the kitchen, carefully slid the ‘f’ tile into it by nudging the edge with the pen lying across the pad, and then dug another ‘f’ tile out of the letter bag and replaced it. _Neal won’t be happy about it, but I have a right to know who this girl is and why an FBI agent sends her packing. And since he didn’t tell me he was meeting her, it means he doesn’t want me to know… which doesn’t bode well. I can’t let him start making criminal contacts again just to find that damned music box. Fowler’s not worth Neal going back to prison… nothing is…_

The bag secreted in the suit coat Peter intended to wear today, Peter gave another glance back at Neal. Sleeping so peacefully… almost too beautiful in the soft light… Peter wanted to go back, kiss those lips until Neal woke, make love all morning. He couldn’t, no more than he could on mornings when Elizabeth looked just as tempting. _Besides, Neal may or may not still be mad at me about the girl last night… better to just let him sleep and find out later…_

* * *

Fortunately for Peter, June didn’t appear until after he’d showered, shaved and dressed for the day. “Well… good morning, Peter.”

Peter turned as he was knotting his tie, gesturing at the still-sleeping Neal and silently shushing her. June caught the hint almost immediately and withdrew back onto the roof terrace, smiling enigmatically. “Morning, June… hope you don’t mind my staying here a couple days. The house is undergoing some renovations…”

“Not to worry, Peter.” June smiled as she settled into a chair and patted the one beside her. “If I objected to Neal’s choices in company, I’d have told him. And you already know you’re free to come and go as you please.”

“Still, I should have spoken with you first.” Peter felt suddenly aware that he had spent the night in Neal’s suite… and tolerating a prison record was one thing, but a homosexual affair was something else… and Peter wasn’t really sure how it looked, but he could guess.

Watching his face, June suddenly laughed. “I don’t know why you and Neal forget my husband’s background so easily, Peter. While Byron never did… to my knowledge… it was common in our circles for married men to have mistresses… and lovers on the side beyond their mistresses and wives. Those mistresses and lovers weren’t always female, you know, and it was known. Maybe not spoken of, but it was a fact of life. Besides, I prefer not to worry about things that aren’t my business most of the time.” She fixed him with a level gaze. “You do care for Neal, don’t you? This isn’t just physical?”

Caught by surprise, which wasn’t unusual when Peter was dealing with June, Peter swallowed against the lump in his throat. “No, June… this isn’t just a physical thing… and I probably care about Neal a lot more than I should.”

Taking pity on him, June placed a light, reassuring hand on his wrist. “I don’t think it’s possible to care too much about Neal, Peter… he has such little love in his life; he needs all he can get.” When Peter smiled gratefully, June patted his hand. “Not to worry, and Maria will be here shortly with breakfast and the morning papers. Now… who’s winning?”

Peter blinked. “Winning… at what?”

“The Scrabble game.” June gestured through the door into Neal’s suite. “I’m assuming that the two of you got… distracted before you finished. Who’s winning?”

Blushing, Peter shook his head, quickly. “No… no, Neal was using it last night before I got here… looks like he’s trying to figure out the meaning behind a code we found in a suspect’s belongings at a crime scene. Might be our only way to predict where she’s going next.”

June’s eyes lit up and she stood, walking into Neal’s suite and gesturing for Peter to follow. Looking over the board, June picked up the original list and examined it. “It looks like Neal’s already eliminated several ciphers,” she whispered. “Have you any talent with codes, Peter?”

Peter shook his head. “Not enough… I can recognize a few simple ones, but the complex stuff makes my head swim.”

Nodding, June started counting almost to herself, then set down the note and rearranged the tiles until they matched the original list again. Peter watched in fascination as June seemed to pick up where Neal had left off, testing several different combinations. _She really is something else… I wonder if even Neal Caffrey could ferret out all the secrets in this woman’s life… they say people come into our lives for a reason, and that’s definitely true with June and Neal… she and El would probably really hit it off, too…_

When Maria tapped on the glass quietly, having arrived with coffee and fruit and the morning papers, June reluctantly stepped back. “Oh, well… breaking codes takes time,” she said as they stepped back out onto the terrace. “At least if they’re well-constructed codes.” With an arch look and a faint smile, she added: “Since Neal was obviously worn out attending to… shall we say, FBI business…? Shall we just let him sleep and have some breakfast?”

Blushing, Peter nodded and poured both of them a cup of coffee from the press before sitting down.

* * *

It was another half hour before Neal appeared, looking tousled and still drowsy and somewhat miffed as he stepped onto the terrace with them. “Morning.”

“Morning!” Peter smiled brightly at Neal, feeling somehow perfectly at home. The only thing missing was Elizabeth sitting at June’s other side, her warm laughter harmonizing with June’s and her blue eyes sparkling, and the morning would have been perfect.

_He looks like he belongs here… which isn’t possible… Peter has a home, with Elizabeth…_ “Sleep okay?”

Smiling over his coffee cup, Peter took a moment to appreciate the slender, sleep-tousled, beautiful man before him. He looked adorable: barefoot, silvery silk pajamas that complemented the blue of his eyes, the morning sun casting his face in white gold tones and his dark lashes all but closed against the brightness of the day. “Oh… I could get used to this,” Peter replied honestly. _I really could… I could get very used to waking up every morning to June’s Italian roast and Neal Caffrey looking mussed… as used to it as I am to cereal on the patio with the vines in full green and the little kisses El gives me when she refills my coffee cup…_

Neal wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. Much as Peter enjoyed being with Neal, Neal knew that Peter would never leave Elizabeth no matter what comforts June’s house offered. Neal didn’t want him to, either. Elizabeth loved Peter, and Neal only had Peter in his bed because she allowed it. He wasn’t willing to press for more when there wasn’t likely to be more to give. The thought made him somehow irrationally angry at Peter, enough to snap: “You’re in my chair.”

“I didn’t see your name on it,” Peter retorted mildly. _Yeah… somehow, I’m definitely still in trouble…_

_Real smooth… Peter was up and he didn’t want to wake me and there’s nothing wrong with him having breakfast with June… so why am I suddenly acting like we’re twelve and he stole my usual seat on the bus? I need to get coffee…_ “You guys playing Scrabble?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation moving.

_Neal’s upset about something… Peter’s in too good a mood for it to have been a serious fight… I wonder what’s wrong._ “Sort of,” June replied, her gaze level as she tried to sort out what was bothering Neal.

“Trying to figure out what this means,” Peter added, holding up the page from Pierce’s purse.

“Really?” Neal felt a clutch in his stomach. He hadn’t anticipated Peter finding the note page he’d taken from evidence, having substituted the photocopy when Jones wasn’t looking. _How do I explain that I just prefer having the original? That I’m just more comfortable working that way?_

“I’ve seen a code once or twice in my life,” June advised, seeing Neal’s discomfiture and wanting to distract him. “We were playing with shift ciphers.”

“Glad you’re having fun,” Neal replied, trying to keep his composure. He didn’t like how vulnerable he suddenly felt, with Peter and June both having looked at his code-breaking attempts and adding their own thoughts. Neal preferred to solve these kinds of puzzles alone, and he’d wanted to find the answer alone… maybe even before the cryptanalyst… it would impress the Hell out of Peter…

Peter noticed his upset and glanced at June. “We should get him a banana or something,” he advised softly.

“I think so, yes.” June took the banana from the fruit bowl on the table and walked inside. “Neal, please don’t be upset. Peter and I didn’t want to wake you, and I was curious; that’s all.”

Unable to be angry at June, Neal took the banana with a smile. “No, June… I’m not angry. Just a groggy from oversleeping. Sorry I slept through breakfast.”

“You looked so peaceful that we hated to wake you.” June kissed his cheek, giving Neal’s hand a gentle squeeze. “There’s plenty of coffee left, and we can have breakfast together some other time. Will you make a copy of that code for me? I want to see if I can break it myself… not for the case, mind you. Just a little mental exercise.”

Neal glanced up and Peter nodded. “Of course, June. I’ll leave a copy on your table in the library before we go into the office today.”

Giving Neal another quick kiss to the cheek, June turned and smiled at Peter. “We’ll have to do this again sometime, Peter. I enjoyed your company this morning.”

“Likewise, June.” Peter watched her leave through the interior door, then walked in and gave Neal a somewhat rueful look. “How much trouble am I in here? Really?”

“No, Peter… it’s fine.” Neal shook his head, not wanting to argue with Peter this morning. His irritation felt trivial anyway; didn’t feel important enough to express. Even being upset over Alex last night didn’t seem important, not when he couldn’t really blame Peter for misreading his signals. If Peter had known Alex was gun-shy of feds, he wouldn’t have responded the way he had. And there was no way to warn Peter about that without having to answer questions Neal didn’t want asked yet.

Turning back to the Scrabble board, Peter let Neal retreat from the discussion and from him. _Maybe he just needs something to eat and some coffee… we can talk later._ “This is the actual list, isn’t it?” Peter asked, changing the subject as he surveyed the board and held out the page. “You stole from evidence.”

“ _Borrowed,_ okay? I made a copy for you guys.” Neal didn’t like being on the defensive with Peter, especially when he was just trying to help. _Peter still doesn’t understand that about me… I wonder if he’ll ever understand… or if it’ll ever matter whether he does or not._ “Doesn’t matter: I tried keywords, anagrams, Charlemagne cipher, Rohan’s… everything.”

Concentrating on the legal pad where Neal had worked through his attempts, Peter caught a familiar word that was actually connected to the case. “Aldys Gray,” he murmured. “You spelled his name wrong; Aldys is spelled with a ‘y’.”

“What?” Neal stepped over to the table, looking at the list Peter pointed to. _Is he right? Did I… I did…_ Neal stared at the letters, making the replacement in his head… and then everything fell into place. _Peter unlocked it… he caught my mistake and unlocked it…_ “It’s a shift code hidden in an anagram.” Grabbing the pad and pen, Neal forgot his irritation with Peter again. “All right, there are five items on the list. Shift the alphabet forward by five letters: ‘a’ becomes ‘e’, ‘b’ becomes ‘f’… reassemble… ‘Check Pew V’ becomes Aldys Gray.”

“It’s a list of names,” Peter concluded. He loved watching Neal like this… loved the way their minds fell into sync and all pretense fell away and they knew what the other was seeing… thinking…

“A hit list.” Neal looked up at Peter, feeling the same apprehension Peter had when they’d realized Pierce was the shooter. _Aldys Gray wasn’t her only target._

Peter could almost hear the thought. “Dead guy’s fourth down.” He looked at Neal, all worries about their personal situation forgotten. “Let’s find out who’s next.”

“That part should be easy, now.” Neal sat, flipping the pad to a fresh page and starting over. In less than two minutes, Neal had the names decoded and was handing the list to Peter. “I’ll grab a shower; we can head for the office in half an hour.”

Taking Neal’s hand, Peter tugged Neal close for a warm good-morning kiss. “You’re still a genius, sweetheart… right up there with Charles Eppes.”

Blushing faintly, Neal stood and kissed Peter again. “You’re a flatterer… and I need a shower. Call a cab, please? I hate taking the subway.”

* * *

They walked into the office together, side by side. Peter couldn’t resist a little swagger in his step as they entered; he always felt like this when they made a break in a case, and Neal had pulled off a huge break this morning.

“Morning. Cryptanalyst called,” Lauren reported, sliding up to talk beside them.

Peter couldn’t resist feeling a little smug. “Shift code hidden in an anagram.”

“She called you, too?” Lauren was more than a little surprised; the cryptanalyst hadn’t said she was trying to reach Peter directly.

“No, but I need you to pull these names, ASAP.” Retrieving the new list Neal had made when they’d broken the code from his pocket, Peter passed it across Neal’s body to Lauren.

_Boss cracked it… or Neal did… not bad._ “Nice.”

As Lauren turned back to her desk to start running the names, Jones came up behind them with a slightly sardonic smile on his face. “So, Peter… how was the hotel last night?” _If he stayed there longer than ten minutes, I’ll be shocked… especially when he had a much better option…_

Unwilling to risk anyone overhearing who wouldn’t understand, Peter elected to just play it off without turning around. “Fine… loud… bed’s a bed, you know.”

Neal lost his patience and turned to Jones. He’d been irritated all morning and Jones was fine with their relationship and Peter lying about where he’d slept last night was the last straw. “Peter stayed at my place. Couldn’t handle the motel.”

_Damn it, Neal! You’re not supposed to say things like that in the middle of the office; especially not so loud!_ “I can handle the motel,” Peter snapped. “I just prefer tormenting you.” When Neal walked away, looking more than a little irritated, Peter took the opportunity and stopped Jones from following. “Jones, do me a favor. Want you to run prints on this,” he instructed softly, removing the baggie with the Scrabble tile from his pocket. “See if we can find out who they belong to.”

“Keep it quiet?” Jones asked.

“Yeah.” Peter didn’t like the idea of going around Neal this way. He would have much preferred that Neal come to him with the truth about Alex. _I did say I wanted as little information as necessary about how he was finding the music box… but I think we may have to revisit the concept of necessary information. Soon._

* * *

Finding the other names on the list didn’t take long. Lauren threw together a presentation in about two hours, mostly on her own since Peter had given Jones a project. Peter’s relief that the other marks on the list were still alive was palpable, validation that at least no other deaths were on his conscience for letting Pierce get away. Neal wanted to reach out and comfort him, remind him again that Gray’s death wasn’t his fault, but Lauren was still an unknown and Neal wasn’t about to risk it. _Now if Diana was still here, I could give Peter all the comfort he needs and she wouldn’t mind at all. She’d help run interference._

As it turned out, Lauren’s description of the last person on the list, Daniel Picah, was generous in the extreme. She’d used words like “a little eccentric” and “eager to help”. In reality, Daniel Picah was far too eager to please, pushing too hard without being aware of it. It made Neal uncomfortable, edgy, even as he tried to cut ‘Dan’ some slack.

The incoherency of the antique collection and the usage of priceless statuary as hat racks, however, were completely unforgivable in Neal’s mind. There was simply no excuse for four floors of random ostentation as overcompensation for ostracism in high school: not when the acquisition of the collection was done with more concern for how impressive a piece sounded and how expensive it was, rather than respect for the pieces themselves.

And Peter wasn’t helping even a little bit.

Stressed by the enforced tour of Dan’s collection, Neal was monosyllabic on the ride back to the Bureau. He wasn’t thinking straight. Little things kept setting him off, until Neal felt like he couldn’t be around Peter without screaming. And Neal found himself nothing short of relieved when Peter told him that he was meeting several other agents to play basketball in the Park not long after they’d returned to June’s for the evening. It would give him some quiet and solitude… let him get his head back in the game.

Engrossed in a description of the amber music box included in **_Musical Boxes and their History_** , Neal almost didn’t hear Peter coming in from the game. Quickly stashing the book under the couch cushion, Neal tried to look as natural as possible as Peter came through the door. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Peter saw through Neal’s pose in an instant, which concerned him almost as fast. It usually wasn’t easy to tell when Neal was putting up a façade. _Something’s wrong… and he doesn’t want me to know it. He can’t still be upset about Alex._ “Want a beer?” he asked as he headed for the refrigerator.

“We don’t have any beer,” Neal replied quickly. _And I told you before that I don’t drink it anyway… not if I can help it._

“Oh, I got some.” Peter casually dropped his basketball and his sweatshirt on the kitchen counter and retrieved a can from the refrigerator. “I got us a whole case.”

Neal sat in total shock as Peter opened his beer, closed the refrigerator and came over to sit on the couch. _When did he drop that off? And what the Hell is he doing, tossing that sweatshirt and that filthy basketball on the kitchen counter? And he’s… oh, come on…_ Words refused to come. Panic was starting to tug at Neal’s senses again: a feeling of helplessness… of confusion… “You’re sweating,” Neal finally managed. Peter acknowledged the point but didn’t stand up… didn’t move to get a shower or dispose of the dirty clothes… “This is a nice couch,” Neal tried again, “so I don’t want…”

“Yeah, it’s comfy,” Peter agreed. He didn’t really understand what the big deal was. They’d engaged in activities that created more than just sweat all over the suite since becoming lovers, and Neal hadn’t scrupled even a little over that. A little hard-earned sweat from a basketball game shouldn’t bother him. Reaching for the remote, Peter flipped on a game and picked up one of the case files he’d brought home.

The noise didn’t help. It just rubbed the edges of Neal’s nerves even more raw. Reaction was piling on top of reaction, and Neal couldn’t find the words to make it stop. “Look, I’m reading here,” Neal reminded Peter, still trying… “I’m doing some research.”

“Yeah, so am I.” _What’s wrong with him? He’s acting like I’m committing some kind of cardinal sin for watching television and working at the same time…_ “I’m reading and researching and listening. I’m multi-tasking.”

Trying to avoid letting his temper get the better of him, Neal snatched up the remote and turned the volume down as far as it would go. _If he wants the game on, it’s on. But I can’t listen to it… I can’t… I don’t know what’s wrong with me right now, but I can’t handle this…_

Peter’s head shot up as the sound went down. “What… what are you doing? No! No…” Looking at Neal, who had turned back to his book and appeared to be purposely ignoring him, Peter tried to make Neal understand. “When… when I’m in my home, I listen to the game and I look at my case files.”

“Too bad this isn’t your home,” Neal snapped. _Why is he being so insensitive…? Like he can do whatever he wants here and I won’t care? He’s never behaved like this before… and I’ll be El wouldn’t put up with this crap from him… probably doesn’t even try this with El… doesn’t care enough about me to even worry about whether or not I mind…_

“Well, yeah… the power’s still off.” _Whatever’s wrong with him, he needs to either tell me or get over it. I’m not fighting with him over listening to a game… El never minds when I watch the game at night…_ Picking up the remote, Peter turned the volume back up. “So we’ll have to hear it.”

Neal’s blood pressure spiked. He felt it, knew it was pounding in his skull for all the wrong reasons… reasons wouldn’t have thought possible when Peter was near him… ordinarily, Peter was a considerate, attentive lover… someone who cared about what Neal was feeling and didn’t push his buttons on purpose… but all Peter seemed to want right now was to do precisely that, and Neal was far too close to losing his temper to handle it. “All right, I’m going downstairs,” he declared hotly, snapping his book closed.

Peter blinked at Neal stood up from the couch. “Why?”

“No, I’m going downstairs,” Neal insisted. Retreat was the braver option here… definitely… “I can’t think… it’s too loud.” Walking out and closing the door behind him, Neal tried to get his temper back under control. _I should pay for a damn hotel for him myself… I’ve got the limit on the credit cards and it would get him out of my hair… at least until he stops acting like an ass… what the Hell’s gotten into him? And why can’t I just deal with it? Usually when he gets a little out of hand, I can take care of it… what’s wrong with me? I swear I’m this close to figuring out how to make it so he can just go back to the house…_

_Back to the… house… go back… because Pierce can’t… that’s it!_

Temper fading in the face of a breakthrough, Neal turned and hurried back into the suite. Peter had shifted on the couch, but otherwise hadn’t moved to get more comfortable by cleaning up. “Peter! Go back to the house.”

_What has gotten into him?_ “I told you: the power’s out. I can’t go back…”

“No! Christopher Gray’s house.” Watching comprehension dawn on Peter’s face, Neal couldn’t help feeling a little of the tension ebb. He could still impress Peter even when the man was being a Philistine… “The FBI interrupted Pierce’s search; she wasn’t expecting that.”

“Whatever she was looking for is still there.” Peter caught up with Neal’s thoughts instantly, standing up. _Another break… one that could put us actually ahead on this case…_ “Maybe we can figure out what Gray and Dan have in common if we go back.”

Staring across the space at each other, back in tune for the moment, both men came to the same realization at the same time. “With Dan,” they told each other in unison.

_Great… last thing I need…_ Neal fought the urge to scream. Dan was a perfectly nice person, but he was setting Neal on edge just by thinking about him and Peter’s behavior wasn’t alleviating that at the moment. Before Peter could sit down again, Neal took a breath. “Peter… if I promise to be extra nice to Dan and not try to kill him for using priceless statuary as a hat rack, will you _please_ go shower?”

“Neal, I don’t know what your problem is,” Peter started. “We’ve both been-”

“Peter.” Neal’s eyes went flat, his temper finally betrayed in his voice. “Shower or sleep alone tonight. Your choice.”

Peter could tell Neal was serious. And actually angry with him, not just annoyed. Somehow, Neal had been pushed too far. Setting the file aside, Peter stepped past Neal and into the bathroom without another word.

Shaking, Neal couldn’t bring himself to move until the door was closed and the shower was running. And then Neal was moving on automatic, feeling like his thoughts were disconnected from his body.

The television was turned down to silent again. The blanket Peter had been leaning against was pulled off the couch. It went into the hamper along with the bed linens that needed laundered and the sweatshirt that Peter had callously tossed on the counter. Peter’s basketball was carefully placed outside on the terrace beside the door. The counter was scrubbed with Clorox wipes. Peter’s open beer was put in the refrigerator. Neal’s research was meticulously placed back on the shelves; he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on it, anyway. Peter’s case files were neatly stacked, the open file on top. The couch cushions were Febreezed and Peter’s pajamas were placed, neatly folded, on the table beside his files. Peter’s bathrobe was hung off a hook inside the bathroom without a word to Peter.

By the time Peter emerged, the suite was mostly dark. The television flickered on silent, but Neal wasn’t doing research and he wasn’t out on the terrace. Peter finally made him out in the bed, curled on his side with his back to the couch. Pulling on his pajamas, Peter stepped over to the bed and reached for him. “Neal?”

“Not tonight, Peter.” Neal’s entire frame was stiff, unresponsive to Peter’s touch. Neal was holding himself together with both hands, not even sure himself why he was coming apart. But if Peter was going to behave this way, Neal couldn’t try to fix it in Peter’s arms. Peter was only making it worse, and didn’t seem to care that he was, either.

The words had Peter recoiling, startled and hurt and bewildered. What had he done? And how could he begin to make it up to Neal if he didn’t know what he’d done wrong? Neal’s body remained still, and Neal didn’t speak again. Slowly, Peter withdrew to the couch, watching the game and reading his case files with equal absence of mind.

When Peter finally came to bed, Neal didn’t roll into his arms when Peter tried to embrace him. Neal stayed stiff as a board, unable to sleep even as Peter rolled away and drifted off, Neal’s mind a riot of thoughts he couldn’t name. He heard Peter talking in his sleep, mumbling incoherently… it reminded him of Kate… her voice a light contralto rather than a deep velvet baritone…

It was a very, very long time before Neal’s mind quieted and he was finally able to sleep.


	4. Home Invasion Redux – Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see Chapter One for notes, warnings, disclaimer and song list.

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/ladyeternal/pic/00004ab7/)

~ooooOOOoooo~

 

Silence loomed in the suite the next morning. Peter didn’t know how to approach Neal about undoing whatever damage he’d done last night. Neal, who had risen early after a restive few hours’ sleep, dressed for the day as if his impeccable suit and long-coat were chain mail and armor.

Only a moment of hesitation had passed before Neal picked up his ring on its long chain and fastened it around his neck. He still trusted Peter. He needed to believe that they would work past this. He needed the tangible symbol of Peter’s promise to catch him if he fell.

When they picked up Dan, Neal gave every appearance of grace and conceded shotgun to him. It earned him space from Peter and a boyish, puppy-esque grin from Dan; the former was desperately needed and the latter was really rather nice. Dan was a sweet kid, after all.

_If my life wasn’t such a tightrope walk, or if Dan were a little less naïve, I’d take him in hand… give him a little encouragement. That’s all he really needs. But my life is a little too dangerous for me to pick up a Scoobie and he needs someone who isn’t on a two-mile leash. Someone who can say ‘let’s drop everything and go tour European museums for six months’. Someone who isn’t trying to figure out how to deal with the most impossibly boorish FBI agent on the face of the Earth as a lover, a girlfriend he can’t trust who also needs his help, another FBI agent who’s using both of those people to get his hands on a priceless antique, and a mysterious correspondent sending chess moves on post cards._

_God, when did my life become such a mess? And how am I supposed to clean it up again if Peter’s going to act like an ass?_

Mercifully, Peter had arranged for Lauren to meet them at Gray’s house and passed out latex gloves on the front porch. Dan eagerly pulled his on and all but bounded up the stairs when Peter indicated where they needed to go. “So this is a crime scene?”

“Yeah.” Peter was bringing up the rear, letting Lauren and Neal follow Dan up first. He could see the tense set of Neal’s shoulders and wanted to relax them, but he didn’t know how… didn’t know even how to approach Neal and try and make it right…

“That was where the body was,” Dan commented, staring at the tape line on the floor as he stepped around it. He never saw the wince in Neal’s eyes as the unwelcome memory of the actual body flashed in Neal’s mind. “Don’t touch anything, right? I won’t. Just, uh… survey the scene.”

Peter tried to ignore the look Neal and Lauren exchanged that clearly said this promised to be a very long morning. “Dan, look in every room. It could be anything you have.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know, Pete.” Dan’s tone was almost dismissive, as if the idea that he wouldn’t tell Peter if he found something that matched his own collection was ridiculous. He then looked at Neal. “Hey, Neal? Maybe you could teach me that hat trick, sometime…”

“Yeah!” Neal cut in quickly; he’d have promised to take Dan on that six-month tour of Europe if it would move this along. “Yeah, maybe.”

Peter couldn’t help a little snicker at Dan’s obvious hero-worship. _Neal really has no idea how much Dan is looking up to him… to Dan, Neal’s the coolest guy in the room and he wants in on Neal’s clique… God, it’s like being back in high school._ “Wants to learn your hat trick,” he murmured, trying to bridge the gap between them by making Neal see the humor in the situation. “It’s adorable.”

“Don’t,” Neal warned, not wanting to deal with it or him at the moment. “Don’t, Peter.”

“No, it’s adorable,” Peter insisted, trying to make Neal smile. “It’s adorable.” When Dan wandered from one part of the room to another, Peter looked around Neal at Lauren. “Go keep an eye on him,” he ordered quickly, gesturing her towards Dan.

“So, what happens if I don’t find it?” Dan asked, peering in corners. “Where are we going next?”

Neal turned, decidedly not happy with that remark. The move brought him closer to Peter than he’d been all day, and Peter’s mouth was far too much of a temptation given Neal’s current mood. “He’s stalling ‘cause he wants to hang out with you,” Neal murmured.

“No, he’s stalling ‘cause he wants to hang out with you.” Peter knew hero-worship when he saw it, and Dan wasn’t nearly as impressed with him as he was with Neal. Neal was so close… close enough to smell the light cologne he dabbed at his pulse points…

Peter’s assessment was proven a half-second later when Dan asked: “Is that fingerprint dust? Neal, did you see this?”

In that instant, Lauren got heartily sick of all of them. _If I wanted to be around high school boys, I would have gone into teaching._ “Okay!” she interjected, her tone forcefully bright as she put a firm guiding hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Yeah, let’s go check another room.”

Watching with no little relief as Lauren hustled Dan out, Neal turned back to Peter, who was almost impossibly closer now. “You’re hanging out with him.”

“No, you’re hanging out with him,” Peter insisted again, knowing Dan wanted to be around Neal much more than he would want to be around Peter.

“This is your job, Peter!” When Peter started stammering out a response, Neal reached for a last resort to settle the issue without kissing Peter into submission. “Rock-paper-scissors,” Neal declared, repeating himself when Peter still tried to object.

The point turned out to be moot, because a half-second after Peter fell silent, almost looking like he actually would rock-paper-scissors Neal over the issue, Lauren and Dan walked back in. Lauren was carrying a green figurine of an elephant, approximately the size of a half-grown cat, in both hands. “This is it.”

“Did I do good?” Dan asked, eager for Neal’s approval.

“You did great,” Neal told him sincerely, his eyes going wide as they raked over the piece. Peter and Neal’s continued irritation with him shrank in Neal’s thoughts as Lauren approached and handed him the figure, his mind racing wildly. _This can’t be… it can’t be what I think it is, except… except… holy God, I think it is…_ “Peter, you know what this is?”

“I have a guess that’s probably the same as what you’re thinking,” Peter replied, watching Neal’s mind work. “We need to get Dan’s piece from his house, and we need independent confirmation on both pieces.”

Neal nodded, and he followed Peter out, cradling the priceless statuette in both hands and absorbing every detail in wonder. _If I’d never gotten hooked up with the FBI, I might never have known where to find these… I wonder how Pierce found out whose private collections they were in… the chance to put all five together again… to be part of that history… this is the kind of thing that makes this deal worthwhile. This… and the times when Peter isn’t being a Philistine…_

* * *

Independent verification took time, and Neal purposely avoided spending it with Peter by sitting with Dan in a conference room. Reversing his original irritation with the imitation, Neal decided to teach Dan the hat trick. It lit up Dan’s face when he finally pulled it off, and the sight of that smile made Neal feel somewhat better. _Dan’s really not a bad guy… he really does just need a friend. I can’t be that friend, not with everything else going on, but that’s what he needs._

Jones and Lauren preceded Peter into the conference room, each carrying a statute and setting them on the table. Peter sat directly opposite Neal. “It’s official: the appraiser confirmed Neal’s original conclusion. It’s one of the Emperor’s Five Elephants.”

Dan blinked at Peter in confusion. The man who had sold it to him had said the piece was one of a kind. “There’s five?”

Affirmation that he had been right rushed through Neal’s veins, combined with the thrill of having held such a priceless piece of art and history in his hands… a thrill made headier by the fact that he’d done so without risking going to prison over it. “In 1421, ambassadors from all over the world came to China to celebrate the inauguration of the Forbidden City. Upon leaving, the Chinese Emperor, Zhu Di, gifted them each with a treasure. The Japanese ambassador was given five jade elephants: one to represent each of the Five Precepts of Buddhism, and the elephant representing the wisdom to follow them.”

_I could listen to him talk for hours… I love the way Neal loves history…_ “They were subsequently stolen, and reappeared in the United States in 1901,” Peter continued, knowing Dan and Neal could discuss the history of the pieces for most of the afternoon… and that the discussion would probably be enthralling. Jones was sitting there absorbing Neal’s every word, and even Lauren seemed interested. But they couldn’t afford to get distracted. “They were broken up and sold individually.”

“This is imperial jade,” Neal explained, picking right back up again when Peter paused. “So each statue on its own is relatively valuable. How much you pay for yours, Dan?”

Unlike in his home, where Dan had eagerly disclosed how much each piece in his collection had cost him, Dan was actually almost embarrassed to confess the price of the jade elephant now. “Eight hundred thousand, if you can believe it.”

“All right: you combine one with the other,” Neal said, linking the two statues trunk to tail as they were meant to connect, “you just doubled your price. Link them all and they’re worth between one hundred fifty and two hundred _million_ fenced on the black market.”

“Or to us, a priceless piece of our history.”

Having been focused on Peter as he’d reported the motive Pierce had for going after the entire collection, Neal hadn’t noticed the stranger enter the room. Coming quickly to his feet along with the others, Neal assessed the speaker. An Asian man of middle years, wearing dignity and prestige like a cloak. His tones were cultured, open, but there was a hint of authority in his tone.

Hughes entered with the man, followed by a few other Asian men who were rather obviously attaches to the man who had spoken first. “Agents… and Neal… this is Daichi Yoshida from the Japanese embassy.”

Suppressing his irritation at being singled out by Hughes, Neal bowed, low and formal, to the diplomat. “Konnichiwa… yōkoso.” Pleasantly surprised at the greeting, the Japanese contingency bowed and returned the greeting, thanking Neal for his making them welcome. Neal purposely ignored Dan’s murmur about him being the ‘ambassador of awesome’ and Peter muttering something about not encouraging him. He needed to focus on the newcomers.

“We are not interested in the monetary value of the statues,” Yoshida informed them, leaving Neal feeling a little like he’d been unknowingly admiring a woman’s attributes aloud to her husband. “We’d like to bring them home.”

“The Japanese government has filed a claim stating the statues were stolen from them and illegally imported into the U.S.,” Reese informed them. “We’re cooperating in the efforts to restitute them to their proper ownership.”

“And we thank you, Mr. Picah, for turning over your piece,” Yoshida added, bowing in gratitude.

Dan copied Neal’s low bow in return, smiling. “See? I did good.”

“You did good, Dan,” Neal assured him, putting an encouraging hand on Dan’s shoulder. _Part of me wishes I could be the friend he needs… but that’s not possible and I know better. Better to just part ways after this is over. I put enough people in danger without adding someone like Dan to the list… someone who wouldn’t be able to handle the trouble that was coming his way…_

“We can finish this discussion in my office.” Hughes gestured for Yoshida to follow another agent, who was waiting out in the hall. He turned to Peter before following them. “It’s very important we recover the missing pieces of the set, Peter.” Neal watched as Hughes’ gaze flickered to him, as if the statement was a subtle warning to him at the same time. “We don’t want an international incident on our hands.”

Peter nodded, closing the door to the conference room almost completely as Hughes left. “We can’t recover any of these pieces until we find out where Pierce is.”

Neal smiled at him. “What if we know who her next target is?”

Dan had moved around Neal, uncertain if he was supposed to join the diplomats and Hughes or not before Peter had closed the door. He stood between Neal and Peter, an uncertain smile on his lips. “You mean me, don’t you?”

“There’s no way for Pierce to know that you turned your piece over to us,” Lauren told Dan reassuringly. “Especially if you haven’t had any contact with her before now. We can use that to draw her out.”

“Lauren, take Dan home; Dan, we’re going to need your computer, your mail, any recent correspondence that might be from Pierce.” Peter was in full agent mode now, and Neal started to feel like he could breathe. Agent Burke, he could deal with. “Jones, get me Dan’s phone records.”

“I’ll put out some feelers,” Neal supplied before Peter could assign him a task. “Pierce may decide four out of five is better than none, especially if she assumes she can’t get at Gray’s now that he’s dead. She might be lining up a fence as we speak.”

Peter nodded. “Be careful. You’ll be on monitoring status only; if Pierce is starting to get desperate, there’s no telling what she might do if you start poking around.”

“No stupid risks,” Neal agreed without thinking. _Not unless you’re there to catch me… the you I know. The you I trust. Not the person you were last night._

* * *

Focusing on the case helped Peter regain some of his own equilibrium. He’d screwed thing up royally with Neal last night; that much was certain. Obviously, he should have remembered about Neal not liking beer and not bought a whole case. A few cans might have been tolerated, but not that much, since Neal wouldn’t drink it any more than El would. It wouldn’t have killed him to take a shower before plunking down next to Neal on the couch; El refused to even let him sit down if he came home sweaty, pushing him up to the bathroom with promises of a cold beer and a sandwich when he came down clean and presentable again.

The volume of the basketball game was a sticking point, but Peter supposed he needed to accept that there were _some_ differences between Neal and Elizabeth. El usually didn’t care how loud the game was, only asking him to turn it down if the phone rang. Neal was obviously used to much quieter environments in which to read, and Peter would have to adjust to that a little.

_If Neal ever agrees to let me stay over again… I need to tell him I’m sorry. That’s the way things get fixed with El if I make her angry. Something romantic and tell her I’m sorry. But what to do for Neal? Flowers? Wine? Art? Jewelry’s out… he doesn’t wear any… except my ring…_

“Peter, you got a sec?”

Jones had knocked and was standing in the doorway to Peter’s office. Peter tore himself away from his thoughts, knowing that he needed to re-focus on the case. He’d talk to Neal tonight… bring home a bottle of ridiculously expensive wine… and roses… he remembered a conversation with someone… he couldn’t remember who now; it had been a lifetime ago… that had told him yellow roses were for apologies… and orange roses meant that the recipient was a singular beauty…

“Yeah.” Peter heard himself speaking on autopilot, his mind slow to catch up with reality. “Just going through Dan’s phone logs… again. No contact with Pierce.” Finally drawing himself back into the present, Peter turned to look up at his right-hand agent. “Lauren still going through his computer?”

“Yeah.” Jones stepped inside and half-closed the door. He approached Peter’s desk almost cautiously, like someone could come in behind him at any moment. “Listen… I got that other info you asked for.”

The bag with the Scrabble tile dangled from Jones’ outstretched hand; Peter took it and secreted it in his jacket immediately, now understanding Jones’ apparent hesitation. _I’d almost forgotten I asked him to do this… and I don’t need Neal even more pissed at me than he already is._

“Her name’s Alexandra Hunter,” Jones continued, handing Peter the file. He’d watched the tension between Neal and Peter escalate in the last few days and hoped he wasn’t adding fuel to the fire. Still, Peter was his boss, and if Alex Hunter was a friend of Neal Caffrey’s, Peter needed to know who he was dealing with.

Flipping the file open instantly, it didn’t take Peter long to glean the details from Jones’ impeccable report. “She’s a high-end fence,” he mused. “Deals mostly in Eastern European antiquities… only been arrested once, in France, but… all charges were mysteriously dropped.” _Neal must be trying to connect with her to help him get the box… or maybe she even has the thing… that would explain why she bailed as soon as she found out I’m FBI… no wonder Neal’s so angry with me. I should have said I was his boyfriend; I said FBI and bollixed up a chance to get the damn box and get Fowler off our backs… and who knows if Neal will get another run at her… damn it… two dozen roses and a really good wine, damn the expense…_

Jones could see the wheels turning in Peter’s head, wondering exactly how much Peter already knew about Alex Hunter and how this new information was fitting in. “Checked with a former law school buddy of mine in the DA’s office… you know? Just to see if he’d heard of her. All he’d say is: she has powerful friends.”

Peter glanced up fast, a lead knot forming in his stomach. _Powerful friends means more than just a fence… could mean well-connected C.I., could mean spy whose handlers don’t give a damn what she does as long as she gets results… could mean assassin with a side business, for all I know… I need to talk to Neal about this girl, and soon._

“Anything else?” _Whatever Peter knows… whyever he needed this information… I hope he knows what he’s doing. This girl sounds like trouble._

“No… thanks.” Peter stood, giving the file another glance before putting it away… he’d have to lock it up before Neal came back to the office, but for now, he wanted it where he could put his hands on it…

Jones turned and left, only to return moments later with Lauren, who was carrying Dan’s laptop. “I got something,” she told Peter urgently, setting the computer on the edge of his desk and pulling up the page she needed. “I’ve been going through Dan’s online dating profiles…”

“Come on,” Jones sneered mildly. “This guy did not play college football.”

“Yeah: he’s not a doctor, either,” Lauren agreed.

Peter couldn’t help smiling as he caught sight of the photograph Dan had posted on his dating page. “He changed his profile picture to include the hat,” Peter commented, turning to Jones. Jones was smirking and chuckling almost knowingly. “It just gets more adorable!”

“Well, Pierce must’ve thought so, too.” Lauren pulled up a responding profile entitled ‘foxxylady’. An image of Pierce, looking sultry, stared back at them. “She’s desperate enough for the jade elephant; she winked at him last night. Left her phone number; belongs to a prepaid.”

“So… what? Should we arrange a meet?” Jones asked Peter. “Move in for an arrest?”

“Our evidence is too circumstantial,” Peter replied, his thoughts moving quickly. “Hughes is concerned we don’t have enough to hold her; she’ll disappear with the jade for good, which will not make the Japanese happy.”

“Which will not make Hughes happy,” Lauren supplied.

_Thank you, Lauren, for reminding me of the obvious… I need to remember the old adage that you never go to sleep angry. If I hadn’t let Neal sleep angry last night, he’d be here now instead of avoiding me and we could hash out a plan…_ Peter tried to think… to work up an idea that Neal would get on board with… that Neal could play into and get Pierce to lead him to the jades she already had…

Another glance at the profile on the computer from the corner of his eye gave Peter his answer. “I say we send ‘Dan’ in for one Hell of a date.” When both of his agents blinked at him in confusion, Peter gestured at the photo. “The hat… if Pierce sees it in a crowd, she won’t think twice about the wearer until she gets to him.”

Jones caught up fast. “We send in Caffrey, he gets her to take him to the other pieces…”

“And we’ve got her on grand larceny, if not murder.” Peter smiled. “Go get things moving while I call Caffrey.” As soon as both agents left, Peter counted to three and pulled out his untraceable to call Neal.

_“Peter… what is it?”_

“We’ve come up with a plan to get at Pierce. She’s trying to set up a date with Dan to get at his jade; we’re going to send you in his place.”

_“It’s a little noticeable that Dan and I look nothing alike, Peter.”_

Peter winced at the acid in Neal’s tone. _I really need to fix this tonight… if this fight gets out of hand, there’s no telling what might happen._ “Believe me, sweetheart: I know that very, very well. But Dan updated his profile on a dating site to include his hat, and Pierce used the site to contact him. She doesn’t know his voice and if she only sees the hat in the crowd…”

_“She won’t know I’m not him until she’s close enough to talk, which means that I can talk my way around her… make her think I have the other pieces and want to split the take. It’s… actually kinda brilliant, Peter… what’s the phone number?”_

“555-1780.” Peter paused for a moment, hesitating. “Neal… later… after the bust… we should talk about… things.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, punctuated only by the sounds of the city surrounding Neal. Then, slowly: _“Yeah… we should. I’ll check in as soon as it’s set up.”_ The line went dead.

Toying with the phone for a moment, Peter just prayed everything would go smoothly tonight. _I really need it to go nice and easy… for more reasons that just avoiding a diplomatic incident…_ Pulling up a phone directory, Peter started looking for florists near June’s house.

* * *

The set up had gone perfectly. Neal had arranged to meet at a trendy, upscale bar on Fifth Avenue in the 50s, giving Peter and the team plenty of space for surveillance. And Neal had changed into more casual attire for the meet, looking accessible and charming and damn near edible… at least Peter thought so. _With any luck, Pierce will as well._

Jones was on the headset, listening to the feed from Neal’s transmitter. When he heard Pierce call for Daniel, he turned and gestured to Peter. “Here we go.”

Peter pressed his headset to one ear in time to hear Neal’s voice: _“Pleasantly surprised?”_

_“No.”_

_“Stay! Stay… just for one drink. I promise you: it’s worth it.”_

There was a pause; Peter found himself holding his breath… waiting… if Pierce didn’t stay… if she bailed, they would have to try and hold her as a material witness to Gray’s shooting until they could develop some kind of case against her that would stick… He heard Neal order another vodka and the breath released, even as he noted Neal’s preference for his own use in the future.

_“Who are you?”_

_“I’m the guy who set you up. The FBI was sitting on Christopher Gray’s house because I tipped them off.”_

_“And why would you do a stupid thing like that?”_

_::rustle:: “So I could get to these first.”_

_“You got Daniel Picah’s… how did you get to it so quickly?”_

_“Dan just needed a friend.”_

_“I take it you don’t approve of my methods.”_

Peter saw Lauren roll her eyes in agreement with that statement and waved her off before she could comment aloud. He firmly agreed with her and was sure Neal did, too, but he didn’t want to miss anything… if this went south, it would go fast…

_“I think there are smarter ways of getting what you want.”_

_“Well, it’s different for a man. You should be grateful for that luxury. I, uh… have to work with what I’ve got.”_

Jones cast a look at Peter like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Peter was ignoring Lauren altogether, who was growing more irritated by the minute; he was quite sure that if Elizabeth knew how this girl rationalized using her feminine charms to get her way, she’d have more than a few words to say on that subject as well.

_“That’s a slightly jaded perspective… excuse the pun.”_

_“I don’t think so… I have a lot to work with.”_

_“You do have something I want.”_

Neal’s voice had dropped into that soft, seductive tenor. Peter felt a rush through his veins, wanting that seduction directed at him… wanting this to be over so he could coax Neal back into his arms and promise anything Neal could want… agree to any condition Neal would set… it was the voice of the con, the voice that got Neal Caffrey whatever he wanted, and Peter now understood exactly why it worked so well…

_“And how do you propose we solve that?”_

_“Team up. I got two; you got three. Separate we’re worth about… two million. That’s not bad. Together we’re worth **two hundred million** … which, if you’re bad at math, is significantly higher.”_

There was a short pause… Peter held his breath again… waiting…

_“I prefer to work alone.”_

Peter froze. He felt Lauren and Jones tense, ready to move even as Neal called out that Pierce should enjoy her two million. Peter waited… waited… Neal was calling her bluff… they needed to wait and see if she’d fold… all Peter could hear was the music in the bar and the faint clink of ice cubes… and then Neal’s voice, victorious.

_“So you are good at math.”_

_“You underestimate me.”_

“He’s got her,” Peter all but crowed. Pride washed through Peter again; he was always so inexplicably proud of Neal when he pulled off a con… the artistry that was Neal Caffrey… “Okay, Neal: close the deal.”

_“Miss me, Caffrey?”_

Ice washed through Peter, driving out the pride and the passion and leaving nothing but cold dread in its wake. He knew that voice even before Neal identified her.

_“What’re you doing here, Alex?_

“That’s Caffrey’s fence,” Jones said, reaching the conclusion Peter had already drawn.

Peter could have cursed the paint off the sides of the van. “She’s gonna blow the deal.”

_“I don’t see you for five years and within minutes of waltzing back into my life, I’ve got the **FBI** checking up on me?”_

_“This is another set up.”_

_“No… it’s not…”_

_“It stings when someone messes with your job, doesn’t it? FBI ran my prints; that’s bad for my business!”_

_“It’s not what you think, Alex!”_

There was no helping it now; Neal was on the move, trying to salvage the operation with Pierce and Peter couldn’t afford to waste time… not when Pierce was perfectly capable of and willing to kill to get what she wanted. “Jones, you run interference with Alex. Lauren, you take the back exit; I’ll take the side. We can’t lose track of Pierce.”

Exiting the van, Peter ran as quickly as he dared towards the side exit of the bar. There were too many people on the street at this time of night… and he couldn’t be sure which way Pierce had gone… in his haste, he’d forgotten his earbud… couldn’t hear if Neal was still transmitting…

**“HELP!!! HE’S ATTACKING ME!**

“Don’t need an earbud to hear that,” Peter growled to himself, taking off in the direction of Pierce’s screams. _Neal wouldn’t attack her… but Pierce would scream like he was… just another way of using her wiles to get what she wants…_

Rounding the corner, Peter arrived to find Pierce gone and Neal nearly engulfed in a swarm of three large, angry men. Even from a distance, Peter could see Neal’s eyes were huge in panic and he was ineffectually struggling to get out of their hold. Peter ran straight for them. “FBI! Let him go! Let him go.”

“He was attacking a woman,” one of the men told him. Whether it was an attempt to get Peter to let them finish the job or just to explain why they were assaulting Neal, Peter didn’t know or care.

“All right… all right.” Peter got in the middle of the cluster, putting his body between them and Neal, his heart beating a hundred miles an hour. They’d roughed Neal up a bit, but hadn’t gotten the chance to start pummeling him into the pavement. “I’ll take it from here.” Neal was mouthing off, thanking them for something, and retrieving his hat from where one of the men had tossed it as Peter pulled out his phone. Neal was all right, and they didn’t have much time before Pierce’s trail went cold again. “Lauren, got Neal. Pierce disappeared into the crowd.” Hanging up, Peter tried to restrain his temper. Panic for Neal, anger with Alex and frustration over Pierce were welling up fast, and there wasn’t time to waste. “You see where she went?”

Neal felt his mouth drop open, his eyes still huge and his heartbeat roaring in his ears. That was Peter’s priority right now? Not whether or not Neal was all right? Neal hadn’t been set upon like that since prison… since the last time they’d raped him… since right before Kate had come and torn his entire world out from under his feet… taken away the last thing he’d been able to count on… his body was shaking, stomach churning hard… it was a struggle not to vomit where he stood… “No! I was a little preoccupied with the guys closing in to kill me!” Fighting to maintain something resembling composure, beyond caring at this point whether Peter understood or not, Neal snarled at him. “Cutting it a little close there, huh?”

“We weren’t expecting your girlfriend to show up,” Peter shot back. In another time and place, he might have realized that what he thought an exaggeration on Neal’s part was anything but. In this moment, a thousand pressures closing in on him, Peter couldn’t see the warning signs that would have been glaringly apparent otherwise. “I know about Alex!”

_That’s all he cares about… that’s all that means anything to him… his precious case being screwed up by Alex coming at my head… doesn’t give a damn about those three apes who could have… could have…_ Neal couldn’t regulate his breathing, couldn’t focus his vision. Peter was standing there, furious and aloof, and Neal wasn’t safe anywhere anymore. “I told you about Alex.”

“Yeah… you told me her name and that you were seeing her about the box.” Peter desperately tried to get his own anger under control. They were wasting valuable time and screaming at Neal wasn’t going to do any good. “You didn’t tell me she was a fence with friends in high places.”

Neal’s heartbeat roared louder, drowning out everything but Peter’s voice and his own chaotic thoughts. “You’re the one that ran her prints. You had no right, Peter!”

“I have a right to know when I find her lounging in your bed!” A jealous explosion, fueled by adrenaline and anger. Peter cursed mentally and tried to shake it off, to calm himself before he pushed Neal too far. “Come on; we’ve got to get back and see if we can salvage this mess.”

Falling into step beside Peter, Neal willed himself to focus… to get a grip on it… to remember that he wasn’t in prison and wasn’t likely to ever see those bastards again… every step felt like he was slogging through wet concrete and he was fighting to breathe evenly…

Dimly, Neal heard Peter take a call from Lauren as they neared the car and concentrated on Peter’s voice… Peter was supposed to be safe… “She disappeared again,” Peter snarled as he hung up the phone. “What the Hell happened back there, Neal? What was your fence doing walking right into the middle of our operation?”

_That’s it… that’s just it! He’s blaming me for Alex when she wouldn’t have even been there if he hadn’t run her damn prints?_ “What were you doing pulling her prints?” Neal demanded, his temper riding him hard. He was still fighting to feel normal again… his skin felt too tight and his pulse rocketed wildly in his veins… “What? I welcome you into my home and you run a file on my friend?”

_He’s right… he’s right and I know it and I should count myself lucky that he’s alive and those goons didn’t start beating him to a pulp… or worse, that Pierce didn’t just shoot him right there in the street… damn it, I hate it when he’s right and I didn’t need this tonight… I didn’t need more to apologize for…_

Silence and guilty looks from Peter weren’t the answer Neal was hoping for. He was hoping for an apology, or at least an explanation. But Peter was steadfastly refusing to answer, and Neal took that at its worst possible meaning. “You can’t trust me,” Neal accused, his voice angry and heartbroken at the same time. “After everything.”

“You tell me! I know you’re looking for the music box. Maybe you’re looking to pawn the jade, too? You let Pierce walk because you’re playing your own angle?” Peter wanted to say that was how it would look to Hughes… that’s how it would be interpreted if Pierce managed to get away with the three jades she had already obtained… that Neal could go back to prison just on the suspicion that he’d finally found a criminal opportunity too good to pass up. But the words wouldn’t come out right, tangled up in anger and fear and jealousy. The words never came out right.

Shock ripped through Neal’s mind; he didn’t hear the emotion, only heard the words… a death knell to his hopes that there might really have been something more to Peter’s interest in him. “There were three of them, Peter!”

“You shouldn’t have let her go!” _Damn it, Neal! Three of them or not, I can’t protect you if that little bitch gets away…_

Neal finally lost his temper. Patience had worn out long ago. “Okay, you know what? You think what you wanna think. I’ll walk from here.”

“Hey, where’re you going?” Peter demanded as Neal started away from him.

“Home!” Neal snarled as he rounded on Peter. “Something you don’t have right now! You don’t trust me, you can check my anklet!”

“I will!” Peter shot back, the response driven by anger more than anything else.

_You do all the time anyway, Peter… the only times you don’t are when you’ve spent the night buried in my ass, because then you know exactly where I’ve been._ “Do it,” Neal spat, turning and walking down the street into the crowd.

Staring after him, Peter was stunned. Neal had actually thrown him out. The words echoed in Peter’s mind as he climbed into the Taurus, fighting to steady his own nerves.

_Three miles to June’s. It’ll take Neal at least an hour to get home on foot if he walks the entire way… time for us both to cool off. I should head for the office anyway… try to salvage this mess before it really does look like Neal was setting it up for he and Pierce to fence the jades through Alex… and maybe… just maybe… if I give Neal some space tonight we can fix things… I can’t let him go to bed angry tonight… I can’t let this mess get any worse…_

_I love him. I can’t lose him now._

Starting the car, Peter drove to the FBI offices, scanning the crowds he passed for even a glimpse of the man he loved.


	5. Home Invasion Redux – Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see Chapter One for notes, warnings, disclaimer and song list.

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/ladyeternal/pic/00004ab7/)

~ooooOOOoooo~

 

A three-mile walk in Neal’s current state was possibly not the best plan, but it was the only thing Neal could think to do in that instant. Forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other gave him a rhythm, let him get his heartbeat and breathing back under control. It did nothing for his riotous thoughts, but it calmed his physical symptoms.

It was nearly two hours before he finally made it to June’s. While Neal didn’t want to see Peter tonight, he knew he couldn’t very well expect Peter not to come back at all. His walk had let him get that much sorted out. Peter had nowhere else to go, and all of his necessities were here. Climbing the stairs to his suite, Neal decided to move Peter’s things into one of June’s other guest rooms and send Peter a text message to tell him so. _It’s the least he deserves, and the best I can do… I can’t see him tonight… I just can’t…_

Opening the door to his suite, Neal felt all of his plans for an evening of rest and recalibration tumble to the wayside. Pierce sat at the table, looking comfortable as you please, aiming another small pistol directly at his heart. _I should’ve let Peter come home with me after all… damn it, first Alex, then my chess correspondent, now this girl… why the Hell can’t I ever come home to find Kate waiting for me? Or have Kate drop by in the middle of the night? I need to talk to Peter about tightening security on my whereabouts…_ “You found another gun,” Neal managed, forcing himself into confidence mode. He needed to play the game he’d started tonight… needed to somehow buy time and get word to Peter that Pierce hadn’t vanished into the wind… “Good.”

“Good evening, Mr. Caffrey.” Pierce’s coat was folded over the back of her chair, and she was still wearing the ecru dress and brown heels she’d chosen for her ‘date’ with Dan. Her voice was low, almost seductive… dangerous…

The hair on the back of Neal’s neck stood up at the sound of it. “How’d you find me?” _Where’s June? And Maria? Are they safe? How did she get in here? If she broke in somehow, the alarms should have triggered… if she’s got June hostage somewhere… or worse…_

“Your friend let your last name slip at the bar,” Pierce replied coolly. The gun she held on him never wavered. “I did a little research… come in. Sit. Shut the door behind you.”

Neal reached back and gave the door a hard swing, letting it close with a slam. _If June’s all right… if she’s here and alive and unharmed, she’ll come find out why the door slammed… I’ll know she’s okay… once I know whether or not she’s okay, I’ll know how to maneuver…_ “You always break into places dressed like that?” he asked as he sat opposite Pierce at the table, trying to remain composed. _The last thing I needed tonight was a gun pointed at me…_

Pierce never changed the angle of her pistol as Neal sat; it was now pointed at his head at point blank range. If she didn’t believe him and fired, there would be very little chance that Neal would survive. “Where are the pieces?”

_She still believes I have them… which means I’m still in the game… as long as she thinks I can give her the last two, she’ll keep me alive… which means I’ve got time to get some kind of message to Peter._ “Gave ‘em to a friend for safe keeping.”

“Take me to them.” As Neal moved to rise, Pierce shifted the pistol just slightly. “Wait. We won’t be taking your tracking anklet with us, Neal.”

_Well, this’ll definitely get Peter’s attention… but how am I going to tell him where we’re going? There’s got to be some way… stall until the FBI can get here… maybe trip on the stairs and take her down with me… she could drop the gun… even up the playing field… give Peter time to get here…_ Taking the scissors she presented, Neal crossed his left leg onto his right knee and prepared to cut the band on the anklet. “Soon as I cut this, an alarm is triggered; response time is five minutes.”

Pierce reached back to grab her coat, never taking her eyes or her gun off Neal. “So let’s be quick.”

The blades were half a heartbeat from slicing into the band when a knock sounded at the door. June was calling to him from the other side, obviously having heard the door slam. Neal looked at Pierce with a mixture of relief and panicked plea. _June’s okay… but if Pierce does anything to hurt her… please, not June… I’ll break into the FBI and steal the damn pieces she wants if it’ll keep her from hurting June…_

Apparently, hurting other women wasn’t on Pierce’s list of priorities. She acceded to Neal’s silent plea, gesturing with her gun for him to move to the couch, out of the line of sight from the door. Neal moved quickly, wishing she would put the damn gun away. “Speak a word and she’s dead,” Pierce murmured ominously as she moved to the door June continued to knock on.

It was enough of a promise, and Neal sat on the couch without a sound. _She’s going to be busy with June for a minute… June will know something’s not right… and it’ll give me time… Peter, I hope you figure out this message even quicker than the last one._ A new plan already coalescing, Neal didn’t pay attention to the quiet exchange between Pierce and June through the barely open door of the suite. He cut the band on his anklet, took the cleaved ends in both hands, and tapped out a single word in Morse code. _Peter, please get this… please see the pattern and come as fast as you can… I don’t know how long I can keep her from using that gun… please, Peter… prove to me that you’ll still catch me when I fall… that you’re still safe…_

The door closed. Time was up. Pierce turned to Neal and he held up the cut anklet as proof that he’d complied with her demand. “Tick-tock.”

“Let’s go.” Pierce held the gun on him as he came around the couch and opened the door. “You first, Caffrey; nice and slow.”

As they descended the stairs, Neal praying with every heartbeat that Peter had gotten his message, June was getting dressed. Whatever was happening did not feel right at all, and Peter needed to be apprised immediately.

* * *

As Peter had expected, Hughes hadn’t taken the news about Pierce’s disappearance well at all. Peter’s entire team was still in the bullpen, working on any new leads they could come up with, and Peter had closeted himself in his office, completing paperwork and trying to figure out some way to fix things with Neal before it was too late and the relationship imploded completely.

Lauren flew into his office without knocking, looking exhausted and out of breath. “Neal cut his anklet.”

_Oh, God… Neal, what the Hell have you done? And why the Hell didn’t you call me? He couldn’t have decided that the deal… and us… aren’t worth it anymore… not because of me and the last couple of days… no… he wouldn’t…_ “When?”

“Less than a minute ago,” Lauren reported. “Marshalls are already on their way to June’s, but with no way to track him…”

Peter was already moving past her, down the stairs and into the thick of his team. “Price, pull up Caffrey’s expense reports from Accounting and have them run every credit card number on file. Jones, I want you to run every alias Neal has, see if an account was opened in any of those names and run those cards. Lauren, the file on Caffrey’s fence is in my office: marked ‘Hunter’; get photos of Pierce and Alex to the Marshalls. Make sure they know Neal isn’t a violent felon but Pierce is and we don’t have a bead on Alex.”

Agents scurried to follow Peter’s commands; minutes ticked by in a blur. The Marshalls reported in that Neal was nowhere in the vicinity, and a cut anklet was found on the couch in his suite near a pair of scissors. Peter’s mind was moving faster than any of his agents, trying to calculate the possible scenarios… there were a hundred reasons why Neal might have cut his anklet… and Peter couldn’t stop the guilt from echoing up out of the maelstrom… _It’s my fault… I was an ass and I pushed Neal too far… I should have seen it; why didn’t I see it? Of all the ways this could have gone wrong, I would never have expected this…_

Trying to think, not wanting to go up to Hughes’ office and brief him, Peter was finding little alternative to doing just that when he saw June walking in. “Peter?”

“June…” Peter crossed the room in a flash, the anxiety he was feeling mirrored on her face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine… but I don’t believe Neal is.” Her lips were compressed into a thin line, her dark eyes searching Peter’s face. “You already know that, don’t you?”

“Neal cut his anklet; the Marshalls have already been at the house and found it in his suite.” June’s eyes widened, and Peter tried to remember to breathe. “June… did you see him or talk to him when he got home tonight?”

Moving to sit down at a nearby desk, June took a deep breath and ordered herself to remain calm. Neal was going to be just fine; Peter would see to that. “No, I didn’t. But a woman came by to see him and managed to talk me into letting her stay in Neal’s suite to wait for him.”

“A woman?” Peter felt his heart start racing even harder. “What did she look like?”

“Young… perhaps late twenties. Blonde hair, very straight; sweet enough face, but there was something… ingenuous about her. It was really against my better judgment to let her in the house, but she seemed so sincere and I was sure you would be returning with Neal, so there didn’t seem any harm in it.” For a moment, she assessed Peter, seeing the guilt flicker across his face. _So… he didn’t return with Neal because they had a fight… things got worse from yesterday… young people in love… I wonder if they’ll ever learn…_

Peter could guess her thoughts, glad she didn’t voice them. Considering their surroundings, it wasn’t likely anyone would notice, but Peter couldn’t take the chance. “You didn’t see Neal come home, though?”

June shook her head. “As I said, since I was sure you were coming home with Neal, I went back to the library and returned to my book. But about half an hour after the girl arrived, I heard Neal’s door slam and went upstairs to see if everything was all right. The girl answered, saying Neal was getting out of the shower and she would tell him I stopped by.” At that, June gave a disapproving frown. “Her smile was still a little too sweet, and it was barely a minute after the door slammed that I came up to knock on the door. Whoever she is, the girl isn’t a good liar.”

“Did you see them leave together?” Peter asked, suppressing a chuckle. _Of all the things to disapprove of… only June…_

“I heard them,” June replied. “And I came straight here to warn you. I didn’t realize Neal had cut his anklet, but if he was trying to alert you that he was in danger, that would be the fastest way, I suppose.”

Taking a deep breath, Peter started to relax. _Blonde means Pierce… which means she tracked Neal to June’s and is trying to get him to help her get the pieces that are here… there’s no reason to drag Neal along if she’s just going to fence the other three… and I know Neal is too smart to play angles… not now… not after everything._ “All right; Lauren? Show those pictures to June; see if she can identify the woman Neal left with. I have to brief Hughes.”

Hughes was already out of his office and standing on the walkway above when Peter reached the top of the stairs. “The Marshalls’ service already briefed me, Peter. I noticed Caffrey’s landlady is here; she have anything useful for us?”

The hard look on Hughes face had Peter’s gut churning. If there was any way possible to get Neal out of this without him going back to prison, it needed to be a total win. “June said a blonde woman arrived about half an hour before Caffrey did; insisted on being allowed to wait in his suite. Lauren and Jones are showing her pictures right now to confirm, but by description, I’d say it was Pierce.”

“All right: pull every alias Caffrey has,” Hughes instructed as he walked down the stairs into the bullpen with Peter. “Hit the airports and the waterways. We can’t let him escape with the jade or the Japanese are going to be very, _very_ upset.”

“I don’t think they ran together,” Peter protested. After all of the time and work Peter had put in under Hughes, he hoped Hughes trusted his instincts enough to listen. “Neal knows better by now.” _There has to be more to this than the jade… I know what it looks like and I know the odds, but I also know Neal… and my gut says there’s more to this…_

“Peter!” Hughes turned, hoping to make Peter see past his blind spot. Caffrey had always been a blind spot for Peter, and Hughes had been afraid it would pave the way for Caffrey to pull something like this from the beginning. “He set Alex up as a fence for the jade and he let Pierce escape tonight. Caffrey put every damn thing in place!”

Having overheard the exchange, watching the doubt and the fear creep back into Peter’s eyes, June stood and walked over to him. She had done almost all she could for Neal, but before going home to pray that he would come back safely, she had one last thing to tell Peter. “Peter?” When he turned to look at her, his brown eyes dark and filled with pain and uncertainty, June met his gaze. “We both know he didn’t run.” _Remember what I told you, Peter… remember who Neal is and what he means to you… don’t you dare forget that, now that Neal needs you the most._

The calm surety of her dark eyes poured into Peter, light unleashed amid shadows. As if on her command, Peter suddenly recalled Neal’s voice… echoes in his memory…

_“You don’t trust me, Peter… you’ve never understood how much I’m trusting you… you don’t believe what I say? You don’t believe I can keep my nose clean? Believe that I **won’t go back**.”_

_“You think I’d blow this for anything? Even Kate? Why haven’t I run then, Peter? You **knew** me, inside and out, for three years! Why haven’t I run? Why am I still here?”_

_“I want you to trust me, Peter. I’ll do whatever it takes… even if it means letting you fuck me.”_

_“If I trust you, and do what you say, will you trust me? Stop threatening to send me back to prison? Stop suspecting me of going back to the life behind your back?”_

_“You’re the only one… the only person in my life I trust.”_

Calm settled over Peter as the words washed through his mind. He knew Neal; even the fight they’d had this evening wouldn’t make Neal run. And he loved Neal too much to give up on him. Slowly, Peter nodded his understanding to June. _Neal’s falling… I need to be there to catch him._

Her message understood, June returned Peter’s nod and left. Peter stepped over to Lauren and Jones as Lauren held up a picture, confirming June’s identification of Pierce as the woman who had waited for Neal. “Pull Neal’s tracking information. I want to see everywhere he went this week.” _He left me a clue… somehow, somewhere, he left me a clue to where he and Pierce are going._

The data took less than fifteen minutes to collate. Lauren and Jones joined Peter in the conference room with the laptop, away from prying eyes and ears. The data didn’t seem suspicious in the least; there were no anomalies that Peter could see… until the signal blinked oddly right before cutting out altogether. “Wait, wait, wait… what’s that flickering at the end?”

“A short-circuit when he cut it?” Lauren guessed, not sure there was any significance. _Peter might be grasping at straws here… maybe Neal really did run…_

“Play it again,” Peter insisted. There was something there… he could feel it… the signal flickered, setting off corresponding beeps from the computer. Long beeps… short… long… “That’s not a short circuit. That’s Morse code.”

Dit-dah-dah-dit dah dah-dah-dah dah dit-dah-dah dah dit dah dit-dah-dit.

P-O-W-E-R.

“Power,” Peter told them, not knowing or caring at the moment whether or not Lauren or Jones also knew Morse code. “I know where he is.” Turning before either could respond, Peter raced to Hughes’ office. “Hughes… Caffrey didn’t run. He’s setting a trap for Pierce.”

“What?” Hughes rose from his desk, incredulous. “Peter, that’s a nice sentiment, but-”

“Reese, listen to me.” Peter knew he sounded desperate and didn’t care. Neal was in the company of a murderess and they’d wasted too much time already. “He left a Morse code message with the anklet signal for me to find; he’s leading her to my house. I need a SWAT unit now. There’s no telling how long Neal can stall before Pierce shoots him and vanishes with the three jades she already has.” He saw the conflict on Hughes’ face and took a gamble. “Have I been wrong about Caffrey even once, Reese? Whether you think I’m too attached or not, have I _ever_ called him wrong?”

Another moment passed. “No… you haven’t. There’s team standing by; get your people to Brooklyn. And Peter? You’d better not be wrong now.”

Peter gave Hughes a grateful smile. “If I am, you can bust me right down to the mail room, Reese.” Spinning on his heels, Peter ran for his team. _I’m coming, Neal… just hold on… I’m coming…_

* * *

Entering Peter’s home with the hide-a-key and disabling the alarm, Neal flipped the light switches negligently, almost as if he were testing to be sure the power was off. _Power on… as much light and noise as I can get… Peter, I hope you play this the way I think you will…_ “My buddy’s upstate… cuts the power when he goes… it’s the perfect hiding place for the jade.”

“Where are the pieces?” Pierce demanded, her tone much louder than Neal’s as she followed him into Peter’s living area, flashlight in one hand and pistol in the other.

“He told me he put them in a drawer.” Neal walked towards the sideboard, hoping that Pierce would take the bait…

“Hey! You think I’m stupid?” Pierce did exactly what Neal hoped, pushing past him to ransack the drawers herself in search of the jades. “Stay back where I can see you.”

_Good… good girl… just stay busy searching without that gun in your hand… Peter, hurry… please…_ Easing back against the column, Neal eased one hand up and pressed the power button on the radio near his head, rolling the volume control up as high as the knob would turn. Pierce was becoming almost frantic as she tore through the drawers of the sideboard, scattering the contents across the floor. _Sorry, Elizabeth… I’ll clean up the mess… as long as Peter gets me out of this… I know you’ll understand…_ Forcing himself to keep his breathing even, Neal turned and backed towards the television, eyes on Pierce as she finished emptying a second drawer. She was becoming more and more agitated, and Neal was praying that Peter was close…

“Where the Hell are they?” Pierce demanded, aiming her flashlight into Neal’s face and picking up her gun.

Neal swallowed hard. _Come on… come on, Peter… please have gotten the message… please…_ “Look… he swore to me that they’re here, okay.”

Rising to her feet, Pierce leveled the gun at Neal’s heart. “Don’t play with me, Caffrey.”

“Hey…” Neal dropped his voice to its most soothing, playing for time… just a little more time… “Hey, I want this thing over just as much as you do… all right?” Pierce stepped closer, her gun still poised… Neal’s heart accelerated, slowing only slightly when Pierce knelt and began emptying a storage cabinet built into the storage column. Reaching back, Neal pressed the power button on the television, praying it was still at maximum volume from the last time Peter had watched a game. _I will never complain about the volume again if this actually works… not even to accuse him of going deaf… just hurry, Peter, please… please…_

Finding nothing in that cabinet either, Pierce was on her feet again, gun aimed once again at his heart, teeth clenched in agitated fury. “They’re not in here, Caffrey,” she accused, stepping closer.

Neal matched her pace, backing away, needing more time… just a few more minutes… “If he said they’re here, they’re here,” Neal hedged, needing to convince her. Something about her face told Neal it was useless, but he needed to try… just a few more minutes… “We just gotta keep looking.” _Peter, I’m out of time… Peter, please!_

“I don’t believe you.” Pierce advanced slowly, her gun hand extending…

“Please…” Neal coiled, ready to dodge, to run… if he could make it to the stairs, he could barricade himself in one of the upstairs rooms until Peter got there or she ran out of bullets…

A blast of light and sound. FBI agents in SWAT gear filling the room. Neal dove for the space beside the couch, wedging himself into the space and out of the line of fire. Jones behind Pierce, shouting something and wresting Pierce’s gun from her hand.

Was it fear? Relief? Adrenaline? Or inspiration? Neal wasn’t sure. He only saw…

Peter striding through the door. Untouchable. Unstoppable. Fury radiating from him, power unbound. Coat billowing like a cloak. Dark eyes black with fury. An avenging angel. Saint Michael in human flesh.

_I need paint… oh, God… oh, God, I need paint… oils… oh, God… **Peter…**_

The music descended as Peter closed on Pierce. Neal saw her flinch as he rose without thought, needing to see more… Peter turned, and Neal caught a glimpse of the wrath of God etched across those handsome features for a moment… just a moment… and then they softened, and the aura was gone… he was only human now… only Peter…

The gentleness in those ember eyes… the tenderness on that strong, handsome face… it looked like love… except that was impossible… “Welcome home,” Neal managed, barely able to breathe… the look on Peter’s face took his breath away…

“You okay?” Even Peter’s voice sounded too soft… too loving… Peter had crossed the room to his side and was standing almost too close… almost touching… Not trusting his voice, Neal nodded. Peter’s smile deepened as the SWAT team filed out and Pierce was removed in handcuffs by Jones. “I knew you weren’t running.”

Blinking, Neal tried to make his mind work. It had been a long night… too much… “You said… back at the bar, you said…”

“I’ve told you before, Neal… I say the wrong things. I was trying to say that’s what someone else would think… not that I believed that.” Peter gauged Neal carefully, reaching out to brush a hand through the hair at Neal’s temple when the room was cleared except for the two of them. “You remember what else I said?”

“We’ve said a lot of things in the last few months, Peter.” Neal knew there were lines that had to be drawn… knew there were boundaries he had to set… but right now, after everything that had happened, there was nothing Neal wanted more than to sink into Peter’s arms and be safe…

“You trust me; I trust you.” Peter’s fingers smoothed through the hair at Neal’s temple again. “Come on… help me get this stuff back in the drawers, and then I’ll take you home.”

* * *

June had waited up for them, anxious for Neal’s safe return and hugging him fiercely when he followed Peter through the door. For a long moment, Neal relaxed into that motherly embrace, grateful that June herself hadn’t been harmed by Pierce, gathering a measure of much-needed comfort from her warm affection.

Once she’d shooed the pair of them up to bed, however, Neal’s frayed nerves began to get the better of him again. Peter could see it, and this time he was able to recognize it for what it was. “Come on, Neal,” he urged softly. “A hot shower’ll do you good.”

Trembling violently, it was all Neal could do to take Peter’s hand. The entire night had shaken Neal to the core. Peter didn’t scoop him off his feet; didn’t take his control away. He merely led Neal into the bathroom and started the hot water before gently helping Neal undress.

Neal looked up at him, eyes wide. “I should tell you to leave,” he said quietly.

“I’ll go, if that’s what you want, Neal.” Peter slowly removed Neal’s shirt, then unfastened the chain that held the ring. For a moment, he held the chain up, letting the ring dangle between them, glinting in the dim light of the bath. “Do you want me to leave?”

That Peter would go if he asked it… would finally respect his wishes again… Neal was sorely tempted to say yes. But the thought of being alone and vulnerable tonight drove a ‘no’ through his lips before he could think about it, and Neal wouldn’t take it back. There would be time enough to make his point to Peter later. Right now, other needs came first.

Nodding, Peter knelt and carefully removed Neal’s shoes, socks, pants and underwear. The anklet would be replaced in the morning; since Peter was known to be staying here, no one was too concerned about Neal taking the opportunity to run while it was off, especially after he’d risked life and limb to lead Pierce into a trap rather than split almost two and a half million dollars with her after fencing the jades she’d collected. His fingers lingered briefly at Neal’s left ankle before he stood, meeting Neal’s eyes almost uncertainly.

Needing to be safe, needing to be in control again, Neal reached out and undressed Peter as slowly as Peter had disrobed him. His fingers fumbled a bit, tremors shivering through Neal as he attempted to steady himself. Peter was here… Peter was respecting his wishes, letting him draw the boundary lines… Peter was Peter again… his lover, his hero… not the stranger that had treated him so callously…

Gently, as if Neal was made of thinnest glass, Peter drew Neal into the shower and wrapped him tightly in his arms. The water sprayed over both of them in a gentle rain, and Peter just let Neal gather warmth and strength from the embrace… let the water wash the fear away… “I’ve got you, sweetheart…” Peter murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Neal shivered, a low sob choking in his throat, and Peter continued to hold him even as he reached for soap and loofah… kept one hand on Neal as he washed the day away with the other… kept Neal close and protected…

By the time Peter had cleansed Neal from head to foot, even washing and conditioning Neal’s thick dark hair, Neal was practically asleep on his feet. This time Peter did carry him after toweling them both dry within the confines of the shower stall: directly to the bed, fetching a fresh pair of silk pajamas for Neal and a clean cotton tee shirt and sleep pants for himself. Settling Neal under the blankets, Peter was prepared for Neal to roll away from him again; it was a surprise when Neal nestled close, tangling his body into Peter’s as tightly as he could.

“Stay,” Neal murmured urgently. “Don’t leave me alone tonight.”

Wrapping his arms around Neal, Peter brushed a kiss over the crown of Neal’s head. “Don’t worry, Neal… I won’t leave you alone.”

Neal’s sleep was fitful, filled with restive nightmares. Peter was there to protect him from every one, banishing each with a gentle kiss and a murmur in Neal’s ear that he wasn’t alone anymore.


	6. Home Invasion Redux – Part Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see Chapter One for notes, warnings, disclaimer and song list.

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/ladyeternal/pic/00004ab7/)

~ooooOOOoooo~

 

While Peter met with the Hughes and Daichi Yoshida to officially return the Five Jade Elephants to Japanese custody the next morning, Neal decided to use their gratitude to his advantage. Despite having received the comfort he’d desperately needed last night, Neal still had to make it clear to Peter that he wasn’t off the hook for his previous behavior. Neal could rationalize that Peter’s own emotions were running high last night when Pierce had gotten away, and he would own that Peter had a valid point about the appearances in the situation. But there was no excusing the complete lack of respect Peter had displayed the night previous, and Neal needed Peter to understand that clearly.

Peter came down the stairs past him just as Neal was sending the remaining Japanese attaches into fits of giggles, imitating the loud snores that Peter was occasionally guilty of. Excusing himself before Peter could join the conversation, Neal stepped away from them and placed a hand on Peter’s arm. “She negotiated the jade for a four year sentence?” Neal asked incredulously. “I got four years; I never killed anyone!”

“Guess what she had to work with is better than what you had,” Peter quipped back at him, echoing Pierce’s words in the bar. _Not in my opinion… but then again, if I’d been the AUSA instead of just the arresting agent, Neal would never have been sent up for a hard four._ Over near the stairs, the Japanese attaches were whispering and staring at the pair of them. When they noticed Peter watching them, they bowed politely, grinning in obvious delight. “Why are they looking at us?” Peter asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing… it’s nothing…” Neal felt himself blush, but there was no way he was telling Peter that “kare wa ibiki o kaku” meant “my boyfriend frequently snores”… nor would he tell Peter how good it had felt to come out and say that Peter was his boyfriend, even to perfect strangers they would never see again. Peter was still in the doghouse, at least for the time being…

Changing the subject, Neal removed the print-out the attaches had given him. “Hey, check this out: the Saito hotel. Look at that TV.” Peter’s appreciation of the size of the plasma screen was evident, and Neal knew Peter had taken the bait. _Now for the hook._ “Thanks to our goodwill with the Japanese ambassador, I’ve arranged for you to stay there.”

Chuckling awkwardly, Peter realized he’d been had. “You kicking me out?” Peter asked carefully, hurt despite the fact that he knew he’d earned this.

“No! No, no… I just thought you could watch the game on that TV tonight.” It was a cover and they both knew it, but Neal didn’t want to discuss why he was pushing Peter out of his suite in the middle of the office. “It’s yours for the rest of the week.”

“Have to go back to your place and grab my bags,” Peter hedged, hoping he could talk Neal out of it once they were alone… as wonderful and luxurious as it sounded, this was a punishment… and Peter didn’t want to leave things the way they stood now…

Neal, as usual, was one step ahead of him. “What kind of friend would I be if I made you get your own bags?” Stepping back, he retrieved Peter’s luggage and basketball from behind his desk and handed the bags to Peter. “You’re all set.”

Knowing Neal was shutting him out, Peter tried one last time to keep the door open. If Neal closed it on him, Peter wasn’t sure how he’d ever get it open again. He wasn’t Neal… wasn’t irresistibly sexy and heart-stoppingly beautiful and so achingly vulnerable that Peter’s first instinct was to protect him at all costs… “Is this because I ran Alex’s prints?”

 _We’re not talking about this now… I need time to find the words… to make you understand… you needed time. It’s my turn now._ “It’s for so many reasons, Peter,” Neal said evenly, his eyes bright and keen as blades.

The basketball being pushed into his chest told Peter that Neal wasn’t entertaining any more stall tactics. The conversation was closed. “Thanks,” he said softly, turning to leave and check into the hotel. The cool ‘anytime’ that Neal called after him felt like a punch to the gut, but Peter refused to flinch as he boarded the elevator and left his still-infuriated lover behind.

* * *

Two days passed before Neal finally found Alex again. She no longer trusted him, and rightfully so. He’d tried to cover his affiliation with the Bureau, but keeping the word off the street was impossible and Neal should have known that. And so Alex had shut him down, refusing to accept his apology or to give him any information until he no longer worked with the Bureau. Well and so; Neal could deal with the fallout another time. There were other issues on Neal’s agenda that needed to be attended… and somehow, they were more important than finding the music box or mending fences with Alex.

Peter was giving him space, having apparently gotten the hint that Neal was angry with him and needed time. Neal was grateful for it. Those two days were needed to do more than find Alex again, and definitely more than enough time to decide what kind of boundaries he needed to set with Peter.

Neal spent every spare minute of those two days painting.

Tiny brushes. Careful, well-planned strokes. Working with the magnifier was sometimes cumbersome, but Neal barely noticed this time. He was too caught up by his muse.

Finally satisfied after working long into the night, Neal set it up to dry. When it was ready, he would cut the canvas away from the frame and tuck the image into the left breast pocket inside his suit jackets. Another talisman… a shield and buckler… something that he could keep with him, no matter how far apart Peter and he might be.

One last gaze, absorbing the details of the image, and then Neal was showering and dressing and telling himself over and over and over again that he could do this. _I can face Peter… I can tell Peter what I need… I trust him… I can tell him… I have the right… I am not less than Elizabeth… I hope._

* * *

Picking up the key at the desk was easy, almost child’s play. Having his say without Peter misunderstanding his reason for being there would be harder… and even more difficult would be controlling Neal’s own impulses long enough to get all the words out.

Unlocking the door, he found Peter lounged on the couch, watching a hockey game on television. He shouldn’t have been surprised in the least, really. It was precisely what Neal had expected Peter to be doing here.

What Neal didn’t expect was for Peter to immediately notice his presence, as if sensing him across the room. The television snapped off instantly as Neal closed the door behind him, and Peter was standing up and staring at Neal with uncertain eyes.

He was wearing a tee shirt and sweat pants; the man did love his comfortable cotton clothes… Neal could tell from a distance that Peter’s hair was damp, but the clothing wasn’t. He wasn’t sweaty and stained from being in the health center, then… Neal gave mental thanks for small favors and stood his ground, watching Peter from across the room for long moments before he spoke. “Do you respect me, Peter?”

Peter blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What… Neal, of course I do.”

“Really? Because you don’t act like it.” Neal’s eyes flashed irritation. “Especially not a few days ago. And I’d be shocked to find that Elizabeth actually tolerated the behavior you exhibited the night before we caught Pierce.”

“Neal, come on…”

“Peter.”

For once, it was Peter’s name heavily infused with emotion, and the reproach sank home. Peter flushed crimson, giving ground. Neal was right, and Peter had realized it three days ago. There was no point in defending it now, when before the debacle with Pierce he’d been ready to apologize to Neal for the way he’d acted. The line El had drawn in the sand about showering after work-outs had been there for ages, and Elizabeth wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. So it begged the question: why had Neal?

_Because he’s my mistress, not my wife… he may not think he has the right… and I threw up a wall between us not so long ago… and I didn’t have anywhere else to go that night._

Neal watched the slow acceptance cross Peter’s face and sighed. He hadn’t come to fight; Neal just needed Peter to understand. “If I’m equal to Elizabeth in time, I have to be equal in respect, Peter… I’m sorry, but that’s how it has to be.”

Peter offered Neal a self-mocking little smile. “Kind’ve a jackass, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah… you were.” Neal returned Peter’s self-mocking smile with a wry one. “If you weren’t so damn good in bed, I’d never forgive you for it, either.”

Peter was across the room in a flash, yanking Neal into his arms and pinning Neal against the wall. Neal’s breath shallowed, heat spiking through his veins. “That the only reason?” Peter demanded.

For a moment, Neal actually wanted to say it. Wanted to confess all and damn the consequences to his heart and Peter’s marriage and everything in between. Only a lifetime’s practice at guarding his words held him back. “No,” he finally said softly. “That’s not the only reason, Peter.”

Something in those cerulean eyes… something deep and open and vulnerable and guileless… Peter suddenly found cause for hope. “Good,” he replied, his tone just as gentle. “Because sex isn’t my only reason, either.” Neal’s eyes went impossibly wide, and Peter lifted one hand to brush his thumb along Neal’s lower lip. “But I’m not the only one saying I’m sorry tonight.”

“Peter, I’m not going to apologize for letting Pierce go when-”

Capturing Neal’s hands as they came up to shove Peter back, Peter shook his head. “Not Pierce… Alex.”

Neal stared at him. “I told you I wasn’t really seducing her!”

“But you didn’t tell me why you were contacting her.” Peter’s face was still gentle, but his tone was unyielding. “I was a jackass, but you left me out of the loop, Neal. I ran her prints because I needed to know who we were dealing with. You weren’t talking to me.”

“And you told me not to,” Neal reminded him angrily. “ ‘I don’t want to know any more than absolutely necessary’, remember? Until I knew Alex was going to help…”

“You still don’t get it, do you, Neal?” Peter was forcing himself to stay quiet, to keep his temper in check. Neal was here, and they were going to work this out, and he’d yelled at Neal enough for a lifetime in the last week. “You said I’m the only one you trust. You keep saying you want me to catch you when you fall. How am I supposed to do that when I don’t know what kind of danger you’re in?” Neal’s mouth closed, the words he’d been about to say swallowed back; Peter fought the urge to kiss Neal until they both forgot what they were arguing about. “If I don’t know what you’re doing, Neal, I can’t protect you. It’s that simple. I don’t want to know what laws you’re asking Alex to break to get at the damn music box, but I do want to know that she’s a fence with powerful connections… because that means she’s a threat to you the minute she decides you’re not on her side.”

It was an aspect Neal hadn’t considered before… and it forced Neal to reconsider his approach. Peter wanted to protect him… keep him safe… warmth coiled through his limbs until all Neal wanted was to yearn into those arms and tumble into the bed and be safe…

“I’m… a little damaged, Peter.” Neal felt his throat go dry, forcing the words out in spite of it. It needed to be said, before things got worse for both of them. “I don’t always need you to protect me from my old life… I know the risks of what I used to do and how dangerous the people I did it with are… and you have a habit of riding to the rescue just in time.” Peter chuckled, and Neal swallowed, trying to keep his voice even. “Back there… on the street when Pierce got away… the way they came at me…”

Neal shook at the memory, and Peter saw it this time. Gathering Neal close, Peter tucked Neal’s head under his chin and stroked that soft dark hair. “Sweetheart…”

“I needed you to see it then, Peter.” Neal burrowed into Peter’s warmth, drawing the courage to finish. “You don’t always need to keep me safe from the world… but I need you to keep me safe from myself. I need you to take care of me when I don’t know how to ask… and that means hearing the words I can’t say… even over the volume of a basketball game.”

Peter brushed a kiss into Neal’s hair, cradling him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart… you’re right: I should have seen it...”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Alex.” Neal tipped his head back, needing to see Peter’s face. “It just made everything worse, finding out you ran her prints… but I could have prevented that if I’d told you about her in the first place.”

Smiling, Peter ran another gentle hand through Neal’s hair. “Are we okay?”

“We’re okay.” Neal laughed a little. “Until the next crisis comes up.”

“There’d better not be one tonight,” Peter replied mock-ominously. “Since you’re here anyway…”

Laughing, Neal pulled out of Peter’s arms and backed up to the bed. His turtleneck was yanked off his head and he retrieved a small bottle from his jeans. “How did I know we’d need this tonight?”

“Because you’re irresistible.” Peter’s own shirt was cast aside and he was tumbling Neal back across the sheets. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you… once we cleared the air, that is.”

“Then don’t, Peter.” Neal wound his arms around Peter’s neck and dragged Peter’s mouth to his. “Don’t stop touching me…”

And Peter didn’t.

His hands never left Neal, sliding over smooth ivory skin with worshipful caresses as he drew the rest of Neal’s clothing away…

Kneading muscles still tense from days of stress until Neal stretched and purred like a cat under his fingers, arching into Peter’s massage and teasing him about his magic hands…

Warm and flat against the planes of Neal’s body as Peter molded against Neal for a passionate kiss… his weight settling against Neal’s hips and everything inside Neal seeming to roll over in welcome…

Stroking deep, working muscles that were once again wary from wakened memories, until Neal was panting and sighing and pleading…

Fingers entwined, clasping Neal’s hand as Neal’s legs wrapped around his waist and Peter sank to the hilt in welcoming warmth… sighs of relief commingling before Peter kissed him again…

Never letting go as they rocked together… Neal abandoning fear and Peter whispering tenderness… sweeping away pain and doubt bred in the darkness…

Tighter as release rolled over and through them both like the breaking of a storm… grip slackening as the moment passed away…

Long after it was over, Neal stayed curled in the circle of those arms. Peter had released his hand only to wrap Neal even closer, brushing kisses over Neal’s face. _I’m safe… I’m safe again… Peter will keep me safe…_

“I’ll always keep you safe, Neal,” Peter murmured, echoing Neal’s thoughts. “I promise.”


End file.
